Bl
by Oddball2500
Summary: blah de blah


Fic : Dominant Chains

Author: Tenhawk tenhawk ...

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners... none of which are me. If their proper owners had the slightest concept of how valuable their characters really were... I wouldn't have to write this stuff.

Summary: Challenge response. Joyce has an interesting lifestyle in her past, and feels that Buffy could benefit from it in the future.

Warning : Crossovers ahead. (Yes Plural.)

Rating : NC-17 - I have no FUCKING idea why I'm writing this fic. And I swear to god, if people keep up this challenge crap I'm gonna...  
gonna... well, I'll think of something. Expect this to be as in character as I can possibly make it. I refuse to write a sex-fic for no more reason then to write a sex fic.

Feedback, It's the coin of the realm

Chapter 1

Joyce swallowed as she watched her oldest daughter leave the house.  
It was never easy to see ones daughter get hurt in anyway, but it broke the elder Summers' heart to see Buffy so broken up over another guy.

Her lips twisted as she considered the story she'd finally gotten out of Buffy about this Parker Abrams fellow. That kind of sleaze was the sort that she'd learned to avoid at a younger age then Buffy would ever believe.

Or want to know about, Joyce thought as she stifled a laugh.

The moment passed quickly and she frowned again. Buffy seemed to have a way with men. Too bad it wasn't a good way.

First that... Angel fellow. Joyce sighed, still shaking her head at that. Angel was the kind of classic crush that every mother warns her daughter about. An older man, Much older, with an interest in teenage girls. The fact that he had a tragic past and a classic sort of `cool' facade just made it all the worse.

She'd hoped that Buffy would learn her lesson that time.

Though, Joyce finally admitted to herself with a certain level of Chagrin, it had taken five or six bad relationships before she'd found her way.

Buffy would be ok.

Yeah, she smiled softly, sadly, Buffy would be fine.

Buffy wasn't fine.

Joyce buried her face in her hands and shook her head. Buffy was far from fine.

How could she forget something so basic?

Because it wasn't basic, Joyce's rational mind told her. It wasn't basic at all. It was so far from basic that the neighborhood wasn't within radio range of basic.

Buffy was the Slayer.

The Slayer's life was dangerous.

Any emotion that screwed with her inner balance was potentially lethal.

Oh God, Joyce didn't want to lose her baby.

The mother of two got herself a drink from where she kept a small bottle of brandy for company and sat down. She'd put Dawn to bed an hour ago, forcing the young hellion to give up the TV in favor of dreamland, and had settled in to read.

It hadn't been long before Buffy and Xander had all but crashed through the door, Buffy leaning heavily on the young man's shoulder as she limped along.

Joyce closed her eyes, still remembering the blood that dripped from her daughters leg as she limped across the room and asked if Joyce could fetch the first aid kit. Then Joyce had watched as Xander cleaned her daughter's leg, applied gauze and bandages, then carefully wrapped it. When he was done, Buffy had excused herself to get some clothes from upstairs to replace her torn and bloody ones, and Joyce had turned on the poor young man.

"What happened!?"

Xander flushed, obviously guiltily. "She was blindsided by a vamp with a knife."

"And how did this happen?" Joyce turned her glare on Xander, her fists clenched on her hips.

Xander shook his head, "I was fighting with one a little ways off...  
I didn't see it going after her."

Joyce's eyes narrowed as she glared, "Why didn't Buffy see it?"

Xander had hesitated then, as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure.

"Well!? Out with it."

"She's been down lately." Xander sighed, "Her game's off. Buffy never fights well when something's bothering her."

Joyce blinked, wondering for a moment why she hadn't made that connection herself. After a moment she considered, "What's bothering her?"

This time Xander's face twisted, his lips curling up in disgust.  
"That Abrams guy..."

Xander's tone had pretty much made his thoughts on the man clear,  
and Joyce had formulated her own. But this was different. The slick bastard was endangering her baby girl's LIFE.

The moment had been like a hammer smashing plate glass. Joyce's world had crashed around her, and revealed a much darker one in it's place.

Intellectually, Joyce *knew* that vampires existed. And demons. On that level she knew that her daughter risked her life. But she also knew that her daughter was the Slayer. Stronger, faster, tougher then even the things she fought. Her daughter was a superhero.

Superheros always won.

Didn't they?

Joyce drained her glass of brandy and poured another.

It was shattering really, suddenly realizing that your little girl... your child, could DIE because of a bad choice in love. Most people only felt like they were going to die when they made that error. Buffy could actually die as a direct result of some bastard like Parker Abrams tossing her aside.

Joyce stared at the TV, though it was turned off, and kept drinking.

What could she do? A girl makes mistakes in love. That was the way of life. Joyce knew that herself, she'd lost a lot of time due to her own mistakes of the past. It had been years before she found what worked for her, and who worked for her. She'd always wanted her daughters to learn that for themselves, the way she had.

But... could she wait?

Joyce was well into her third glass of the very fine brandy, and giggled slightly at the image that question slipped evilly into her mind. For all it's erotic content, it was just funny to her. She'd never let that kind of image of her daughter affect her in any other way. Well, except perhaps blinding rage.

Joyce giggled again, noting on one level that she'd probably drunk more then enough. Fuck that. She cursed uncharacteristically as she poured herself another glass.

The image wouldn't leave her be though, and the next glass of brandy added a few more images to it. She couldn't quit shake them loose,  
giggling madly to herself as she noted that they *would* solve one aspect of the problem, if not the entire puzzle. And, it wasn't as if she could solve the entire puzzle anyway. Buffy wasn't going to give up being the Slayer, and forcing her to stop dating would just create the depression that Joyce was trying to find a way to avoid. As if she'd listen to me if I tried that anyway.

Joyce snorted, coughing up some brandy as she laughed at the image of her trying to forbid her headstrong daughter from dating. Oh god,  
she'd Slay me!

Joyce sighed, leaning back in the couch as she set the drink on the end table. It was a mother's fantasy, her daughter an innocent virgin until her wedding day. Then sex only for children.

Joyce started laughing outloud.

Of course, applying that to *herself* turned the fantasy into a nightmare in short order. Oh God, if Buffy had any idea what Joyce enjoyed in the bedroom. Or the living room. Or the kitchen, bathroom,  
linen closet, and a couple times in Buffy's own room.

By this point Joyce was stifling constant laughter, trying not to wake Dawn upstairs.

This is why I shouldn't drink. She thought between the muffled guffaws. I really start to miss Hank.

Hank Summers hadn't been Joyce's first lover, or even in the single digits actually, but he'd been the only one good enough to marry. He'd understood a lot of Joyce's predilections, and had more then a couple himself. Her husband had been a power businessman, always fighting for the better deal, forcing his will against the will of others in his field. He'd go for the throat, knowing that if he didn't the next man over would go for his.

And he'd almost died from it.

He'd had an ulcer before he was twenty four. Spent a month bedridden from a nervous breakdown at twenty seven. Was swallowing blood pressure medications like candy when Joyce had met him.

But he was a millionaire by twenty six, and one of the most alive people Joyce had ever met.

The way they'd met would never have passed muster with their finicky daughter, so Buffy had never heard the real story, but somehow meeting at a swingers club just didn't seem to amuse teenage girls anymore.  
Joyce started laughing again, swearing to herself that she'd dump the rest of the Brandy in the morning. It was having a BAD effect on her mind.

Hank was on his way to an early death when she'd met him, though Joyce didn't know it at the time. His family had congenital heart defects, and his high blood pressure and high pressure lifestyle was leading him down the path to his death.

She'd figured it out when she'd listened in to his doctor had told Hank to slow down or else.

The or else had scared her.

Joyce had been pregnant with Buffy at the time, just a couple weeks,  
and she hadn't told Hank yet. She didn't want to be a widow with a daughter to raise. She didn't want him to die.

So she'd acted.

"Goodbye, honey," Hank said, smiling at her. "I'm going to spend a couple hours in the office this morning."

"Hank... it's Sunday..." Joyce protested feebly.

"Hey, I know..." He smiled, "But I've just got some paperwork to do..."

"But..."

"I'll be back in a few hours." He said, "I promise."

"Sit." The word came out of nowhere, Joyce' voice just crackled with the command. It had taken her aback at first, but it also accomplished it's objective.

Hank sat. He stared at her in surprise and confused shock. But he *sat*. "Joyce... what...?"

"Don't what me." Joyce said after getting her surprise under control. "I heard what the doctor said."

Hank swallowed, going pale. "I... I should have told you."

"You're damn right you should have." She snapped, then sighed and relented. "Hank... I love you."

"I love you too, dear." He said, leaning forward intently.

"Then you're going to listen to me right now." Joyce fought the urge to pace. "I won't let you kill yourself, Hank. I can't stand by and let it happen."

"Joyce..." He smiled, that easy going smile that had attracted her to him in the first place, but Joyce hardened herself against it.

"Don't try that with me, Mister." She said as sternly as she could while fighting back a smile. "I'm serious. You are NOT working yourself to death."

"This is for us, Joyce... Our future, our family."

Joyce stepped right up to him, grabbing his hand and laying it on her belly. "This. THIS is our future, our family, Hank."

Hank Summers' eyes widened in surprise, and he stared up into the blue green eyes of his wife. "Joyce?"

"I'm pregnant, Hank." She smiled down at him, then her face became stern. "And I'm not going to be a widowed mother."

Chapter 2

Joyce smiled, remembering that Sunday, nineteen years earlier. It had been something of a high point for her marriage with Hank, the news of their newly conceived daughter coupled with the start of a new arrangement between the two of them.

It hadn't been fast, and Joyce couldn't peg the exact moment that things really changed between then, but that had been the tangible beginning of things.

Joyce Summers smiled, a little drunkenly, and put her brandy away and started to get ready for bed. Maybe things would look better in the morning.

She found that they usually did, especially since she learned that vampire's were real.

Ok, maybe they didn't look better.

The first think Joyce saw in the morning was the bloody rags in the bathroom, which instantly brought back all her worries from the night before.

Those, and the semi-drunken image that she hadn't been able to banish from her mind.

It was weird how some images wouldn't leave, no matter how wrong or flat out bad they were. Joyce sighed and shook her head, she'd probably never get rid of that image. One reason why she didn't drink often, she tended to get more then a little crazy when she did.

"Mom! I need to use the bathroom!"

"You can have it in a minute, honey!" She shouted back, lips twisting into a smile as she finished cleaning up and cleared the room for her youngest.

If the day started badly, it just kept getting worse. The night before had been Friday, so the group had the weekend largely off. That meant that, unsurprisingly, Buffy showed up late in the morning with a ton of clothes that needed washing and what sounded suspiciously to Joyce like a growling stomach.

She doesn't eat on her own. I just know it. Joyce fretted,  
naturally for a mother perhaps, but that didn't mean she was wrong.  
Sometimes I think that if I were ever gone, she'd just starve herself until someone remembered to feed her.

Joyce smiled to herself and went about preparing a large lunch for her two daughters. One thing about this Vampire business, it kept Buffy close enough to home that she could keep a watch over her daughter without too much overzealousness.

She was almost done with lunch when she noticed that Buffy was sitting at the table behind her, and presumably had been there for some time. Joyce frowned instantly, she'd never heard her enter.  
"Buffy? Is something wrong, Honey?"

"No." Buffy answered, her voice flat and depressed.

Joyce rolled her eyes while her eldest daughter wasn't watching. As if she couldn't tell something was bothering Buffy. Of course, she considered, that may just be the point. The girl seemed to want someone to drag the information out of her. Joyce sighed quietly and went about the task. "Come on, Buffy. I've known you all your life,  
and you don't sound like that over nothing."

Buffy was silent for a long moment, then she finally spoke. "Mom, is there something wrong with me?"

Joyce was momentarily stumped. What kind of idiotic question was that? So she responded exactly as she thought a mother should. "Of course not, Honey... what makes you even think something like that?"

"I can't seem to do anything right." Buffy sighed. "And most of the time I don't know what I did wrong."

"Buffy... Is this about this Parker guy again?"

"Yeah." Buffy nodded finally, "But it's not just him... You know...  
It seems that everything I do is the wrong thing."

"Buffy... You save lives." Joyce said, taking a seat at the table.  
"You go out every night and you save people. That's not doing the wrong thing."

"I guess." Buffy said, not sounding convinced in the slightest.

Joyce frowned, leaned forward and caught her daughter's hand. Buffy looked up in surprise, "Buffy... I love you, you know that. And if you're looking to me to tell you that you never make mistakes, I can't do that. Everyone screws up. It's human nature. You aren't perfect...  
none of us are."

Buffy sighed and nodded, "I know, Mom. I know, but it just seems that my mistakes are bigger then everybody elses."

Joyce smiled slightly, then laughed softly, earning her a hurt look from her daughter. "I'm sorry honey, it's just that everyone feels like their problems are the center of the world."

Buffy nodded, still depressed. "I guess."

Joyce sighed, taking it seriously again. "Maybe your mistakes are bigger then others, Buffy."

Buffy looked up, confusion and hurt in her eyes.

"Buffy... You're the Slayer. Right?"

"Right." Buffy nodded, still confused.

"You... you save the world. You save people. You fight vampires and demons." Joyce said seriously. "You have power. Right?"

"Well... Yeah."

"Buffy," Joyce said gently. "When people without power screw up...  
it doesn't mean anything because they can't cause much damage. They hurt themselves, maybe someone else too. It's tragic, and it hurts.  
But it's not catastrophic. But when someone who has power screws up,  
everyone who depends on them feels it. That's the responsibility of power."

Buffy shuddered, sitting back. "I didn't ask for this, mom."

"I know you didn't, honey." Joyce smiled sadly. "And I wouldn't have wished it for you... not in a million years. But... it happened. And now you have to deal with it, because... as much as I *hate* to say it... if you walk away, isn't that the biggest screw up possible?"

Buffy's head snapped up, looking into her mothers pale green eyes.  
Her face paled, and suddenly Joyce could kick herself as she saw the realization in her daughters eyes. She could see the thoughts form in Buffy's mind as if they were printed in plain english. She could see her little girl running back to the summer before, when she had done just that. When she had walked away and left the people she cared for to fend for themselves against the darkness.

"God, I'm sorry Buffy... I didn't mean..."

"No. No, mom. You're right." Buffy nodded, sounding even more depressed. "I walked away... and it was just pure luck that no one died because of it."

Luck? Joyce frowned. That didn't sound like the version of events she knew. But she shook her head, it didn't matter for the moment.  
"You have a duty... I understand that, Buffy. I wish you didn't... God I wish you didn't... but I understand it. But... Buffy... do you?"

Buffy nodded, "yeah. I do... It's just that sometimes... things just keep piling on and adding up until I... I just can't take it anymore.  
Mom... I don't know what to do."

Joyce smiled sadly moving around to hold her daughter. "Neither do I honey, neither do I."

The two Summers women held each other for a while until Buffy sniffed at the air. "Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Is lunch burning?"

Joyce sighed again as Buffy left for the day.

Their talk hadn't really done much to comfort her, and had in fact worried her a lot about Buffy's current state of mind. Xander was right, as the Slayer she had to have her wits about her all the time.  
Distractions in the middle of a fight, especially ones with the emotional undercurrents the young woman was now dealing with, were potentially lethal problems.

The problem was, Joyce didn't see anything that would solve the problem.

She couldn't shelter Buffy from the world, it simply wasn't possible. Especially if the Slayer was to do her duty and save the world.

Damn that Parker. That young idiot was risking the life of her daughter, and potentially the lives of everyone in Sunnydale if not the entire planet. And for what? Another notch in his belt? A story to brag about to his friends, assuming he had any?

Joyce Summers actually snarled, not noticing her youngest daughter come down the stairs.

Dawn took one look at her mother's expression, turned on her heal,  
and silently padded right back up to her room. Unlike Buffy, she wasn't stupid enough to tangle with her mother on a rampage. There were some aggravations that simply weren't worth putting one's self through.

Joyce never even saw her, and kept staring out the window.

If a *boy* caused all this, or at least exasperated the situation,  
then maybe just maybe a boy might fix it.

Joyce smiled slowly. It had been a long time since she had tried playing matchmaker for Buffy, but maybe it was time for that particular hat to be pulled from her closet.

Joyce Summers kept smiling to herself as she considered the options,  
as unfortunately limited as they were. Buffy had mentioned a few boys over the past three years, but the only one on the list was that Angel person.

And he was worse then Parker.

At least Parker was just a sleaze. Angel was a potential psychotic,  
and that was even worse for Buffy then being dumped after a one night stand.

No, it had to be someone else.

Someone who loved Buffy, of course, not that loving her daughter was a difficult trait to find. Joyce smiled to herself, considering all the boys that had paraded around over the years. There had been enough of them, that was sure. They practically came in waves, Joyce allowed herself a certain amount of pride in that fact.

The problem was, that they washed out like waves too. Especially since the Slayer thing had kicked in. Men didn't like dealing with strong women, especially not when the term strong was so literal.  
Buffy could break any man in two, and once they found out about it,  
only Angel seemed to have stayed.

Then Joyce paused, frowning.

That wasn't true. There was one other person who stood by Buffy,  
through it all. Despite the Slayer thing, despite the fighting and the danger.

Joyce smiled to herself, and the best thing was that this person was someone she could whole heartedly endorse.

She walked over to the phone, considering. Before she could do any kind of matchmaking, she had to test the waters. It wouldn't do to have another Parker disaster. Not when that was what she was trying to correct. So she dialed a number.

"Hello... I was wonder, could I speak with Xander please? Thanks,  
I'll wait."

Chapter 3

Xander Harris edged a little nervously as he approached the familiar home. It wasn't that he wasn't used to being here or anything, it was just that he'd never been called for a visit by Joyce of all people.  
He'd always come looking for Buffy, or in response to a call from her.

What her mother could possibly want with him, Xander had no idea.

All he knew was that it didn't bode well.

"Xander!" Joyce smiled, "Come in... Come in."

She was smiling. That was goo. Right? That had to be good. Why did she call him anyway? He smiled back, "Thanks, Miss Summers."

She smiled, "I just fixed a snack... would you like some?"

Xander's smiled became a lot less forced. Joyce was a GREAT cook.  
"Thanks..."

Joyce smiled to herself as Xander tucked into the food. The boy had a healthy appetite, that much was certain, and it did her good to see someone appreciate her food. Dawn at least ate, but with Buffy is was like pulling teeth to get her to just *fill* her plate. Xander knew how to eat, and that's something a mother always liked to see.

Joyce let him eat for a bit, then spoke. "I bet you're wondering why I called you..."

"Mmm huh?" Xander looked up, quickly trying to disguise the fact that he was halfway through a sandwich.

Joyce laughed, "Finish eating that,"

Xander did, "Umm Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I like a healthy appetite. It means you're healthy."

"Uh... thanks."

Joyce smiled, then leaned forward and became a little more serious.  
"Are you still patrolling with Buffy?"

Xander's eyes flicked to either side, but he nodded. "Yeah..."

"How has she been doing?"

"Fine." Xander answered quickly.

"Xander." Joyce said warningly.

Xander set the food down, looking at her seriously. "I'm not sure what you want me to say. Buffy's the Slayer. She'll be ok."

"That's not an answer, Xander." Joyce said, "And you know it."

Xander sighed, relenting. "Fine. She's still off her game a bit. But she'll pull through, I know her. Buffy'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

Xander hesitated, telling Joyce all she needed to hear. "Don't bother. You hesitated, Xander... Be honest. You're worried."

"I'm always worried." Xander said after a moment, smiling slightly at her.

Joyce nodded, pleased with the response, and changed tact.  
"Xander... tell me something..."

"Sure..." Xander nodded, taking a sip of the juice she'd laid out.

"How do you feel about my daughter?"

Joyce hid a smile as Xander choked on the juice and struggled not to laugh as the young man covered his mouth to keep from spraying the table. But she waited patiently for him to finish, before raising an eyebrow to prompt him along.

"Ah... well... Miss Summers, I don't know if..." Xander tried.

"Just tell me, Xander." Joyce smiled. "I know you had a crush on her once. I'm not that old, and I'm certainly not blind."

Xander nodded slowly, warily, as his eyes flicked around and looked for a way out. Not finding one, he finally spoke. "Uh... well, yeah I guess I did."

"Did?" Joyce prompted again.

Xander's mouth twisted, "Well... maybe I still do a bit. But Buffy and I are just friends. We have been for a while... I just kind of admire her, you know?"

"No, Xander. I don't." Joyce said, "Tell me."

Xander took a deep breath, wishing to hell that he'd had something important to do rather then come here for this. "I... well, she's the Slayer."

"That's all?" Joyce was disappointed. "She's the Slayer?"

"No!" Xander blurted, then immediately covered, "I mean... yes and no."

"Explain."

Xander sighed, wringing his hands. "Come on, Miss Summers... what's this have to do with anything?"

"Please, Xander. I want to know."

He shook his head, but started to speak. "Buffy's... well, she's beautiful. Inside and out... Sometimes, well she makes mistakes. I know she does... But you know, it's always her beauty that brings her to the pain..."

Joyce frowned, not understanding.

"When she loves... she does it so completely that it almost kills her." Xander went on, "And that's what hurts her the most. Angel...  
Well, she loved him too much. Because of that, she... made a lot of mistakes, and people got hurt... bad."

Xander's voice had darkened, leaving Joyce to wonder if her idea would work. There was a lot of pain in the young man's voice.

"But... How can blame someone for love?" Xander asked after a moment, and he smiled sadly. "How can you hate someone who just...  
fell in love with the wrong person?"

There was a silence between them, and Joyce didn't know what to say.

"I can't." Xander said after a moment. "I've been angry with Buffy... furious even. But there's something so fatally attractive about someone who can love like she does. She doesn't even see it, I don't think, she thinks that it's normal to be so completely lost in someone that nothing else matters."

Xander paused, considering. Then he shrugged, "Maybe it is. I don't know. I've loved a lot of people... and I'd die for them in a second.  
I really mean that..."

In that moment, Joyce nodded. She believed that he would.

"But... But I wouldn't let them kill someone else... someone innocent." Xander said, "Not if it cost me their life... or my own.  
I've never loved anyone that completely... and it scares me that Buffy can."

Joyce nodded slowly, "Because she's the Slayer."

"Yeah." Xander nodded sadly, "Because she's the Slayer."

"But you find it... attractive too." Joyce didn't ask, she knew.

Xander hesitated, then laughed in a self recriminating way. "Who wouldn't. It's got to be most folks greatest fantasy... To be loved unconditionally. It's the stuff fairy tales are made of... and that's the world Buffy lives in..."

Joyce frowned, she could feel a lump in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"And the all lived happily ever after..." Xander said, his eyes sort of focusing on some far off land. "The place where love conquers all.  
That's Buffy's world... and yeah, I love her for it... just as much as I'm scared for and of her because of it."

Joyce took a moment to compose herself, not wanting to cry in front of this young man that she suddenly had to admit that she didn't really know at all.

"Is that what you wanted to know?" Xander asked, moving to get up.  
"Because I don't know if I can keep up this soul baring stuff."

Joyce nodded, then shook her head, "There's one more thing, Xander."

Xander paused, halfway to his feet. "Yes?"

"Are you going to ask her out?"

Xander sank back down, thumping into the seat, as he looked at Joyce. "I'm not sure that..."

"Xander. Please."

He sighed, "I don't know... No. no I'm not."

"Why not?" Joyce asked, frowning.

"Because I already did that... she just wants to be friends." Xander smiled sadly. "I'm not part of her world... not that part anyway."

"You did..." Joyce frowned, disappointed suddenly. He'd asked her out and she'd turned him down? That put a different spin on things.  
"When?"

Xander shrugged, "I asked her to go to the spring fling with me."

Joyce sighed, well a few months is still time to change her mind maybe. "Well, Buffy was still caught up on Angel then... He was just back and..."

"No... I meant the year before actually."

What!?

"What!?" Joyce looked at him, her stare piercing him. "That was a year and a half ago!"

"Well... yeah." Xander admitted.

"Xander, Xander, Xander... And you only asked the once?" Joyce shook her head sadly.

"Well... Yeah." Xander said again.

"Xander... Really now, you did expect it to be a fairy tale thing didn't you?" Joyce couldn't help but smile at him.

Xander twitched uncomfortably under her smile, feeling like he'd done something wrong. "What?"

"You thought you'd ask, and if it was meant to be she'd fall into your arms and you'd live happily ever after. Didn't you?" the smile played across Joyce's face as she watched him squirm.

He didn't answer, he didn't seem able to find the words.

"It doesn't work that way, Xander." She said gently after a moment,  
"You have to let her know that your serious... and not just playing around. Love is never a smooth road, and Fairy Tales don't exist."

"I... uh..." Xander hesitated. "I have to go..."

Joyce watched as he got up and sighed, "Alright, Xander... but promise me that you'll think about it."

Xander nodded quickly, willing to promise anything to get out of there. "Yeah... sure... I promise."

"I mean it, Xander." Joyce said sternly, then she smiled. "I'll be checking up on it."

Xander swallowed hard, backing for the door. "Ah... I... Ok... I will."

Joyce smiled softly to herself as Xander vanished out the door,  
shaking her head. One of them caught in a fairy tale world... one of them wishing so damned hard to BE caught in a fairy tale world. If that's not a match made in heaven...

Chapter 4

Xander left the summers house with his mind spinning in about a hundred different directions. Not altogether an unusual situation, if the truth were known, but Xander had never been known for his clarity of mind.

Is Miss Summers right? He wondered. Maybe he had given up too easy,  
it wasn't like she'd taken out a restraining order against him. She wanted to be friends, that wasn't so bad was it?

Yeah. He admitted dryly. It was.

It was the horror story of ever guy. The `Friend zone', locked in that asexual area where girls treat you like their sister.

Well, in all fairness, Buffy actually was more polite to him then she was to her sister.

Xander snickered, smiling softly to himself.

Then the moment was gone, but the thought still remained. Should he have tried harder? Maybe he should have pursued Buffy, maybe asking once wasn't enough.

"Aw who am I kidding?" He muttered kicking at a stone on the ground.  
"What I know about women could maybe fill a thimble... if someone was using it."

The fact was that anything was possible here. Maybe Buffy really did want a guy who didn't give up. Lord knows, half of what she'd told him and Willow about Angel screamed `stalker' to him, but she seemed to find it romantic at the time.

Not that he was considering any of *that* crap. Xander shivered. No way. Uh uh. He was not going to be sneaking into her dorm room, or following her around at nights.

Xander frowned. Wait a minute... I already follow her around at night...

You jackass. He snarled mentally a moment later, She knows your there. You patrol together. It's not the same thing...

Right. It wasn't.

Xander sighed. He'd just started to slip into a comfortable zone with his life, and didn't Miss Summers have to come along and completely screw that up.

He didn't know whether to thank her, or tell Buffy she was matchmaking.

He smiled again, You know... if it weren't for the fact that I'm the target, telling Buffy would be a pretty good revenge... but as it stands, nahhh... I'd wind up at ground zero with two women pissed and me as a handy target. Not gonna happen.

Hey. He said he didn't understand women. Not that he was a complete imbecile.

That still left the question of what to do about Buffy and Miss Summers prodding. Xander quickly took another dip on the emotional roller coaster that was his day as he considered that.

To risk or not to risk. That was the question.

"Damn." Buffy muttered, holding up her stake hand and examining it carefully.

"What?" Xander puffed as he caught up to her. "Are you ok?"

"What? Oh, yeah... I'm fine. I think I broke a nail." Buffy pouted.

Xander smiled, shaking his head in relief. "I thought he had you for a minute, Buff."

"Him?" She looked over her shoulder disdainfully at the scattering off dust. "Please."

"Buffy, he threw you through a grave stone and hit you with a tree."  
Xander muttered, "Why'd you let him grab you like that?"

"I didn't let him do anything. He took me by surprise, that's all."  
Buffy snapped. "And what about you? Don't think I didn't see that header you took into the Mausoleum."

"I came back out... and look," Xander held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. "No broken bones, ma."

She smirked at him, "Very funny. Xander, maybe you should think about staying back at Giles during patrols."

Xander sighed quickly, "Come on, Buffy... We've been through this,  
remember?"

"Yeah, and as I recall we agreed that you'd be fray adjacent." Buffy returned.

You agreed. Xander glared as he caught his breath. "Buffy, You need patrol backup. That's all there is to it."

She glared at him, "I'm the Slayer. I'm built for this, Xander. You aren't."

Xander had to concede her that, and he nodded reluctantly. "Well,  
You've got a point on me there, Buff. But you aren't invincible. You aren't indestructible. And you're my friend. So you get a patrol buddy, whether you like it or not."

Buffy glared back, but shook her head and started to continue along the patrol route. "Fine."

Definitely not the time. Xander thought to himself as he doggedly followed along behind her, despite the increased speed she was putting into her strides.

Of course, that same increased speed did wonders for her ass as her strides got longer and longer, so he wasn't *too* eager to catch up.

Damn you, Miss Summers! I haven't stared at Buffy's ass for months!  
He growled to himself as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

Yeah, but you've been out of town for months. A snarky part of his brain responded.

Oh shut up, you.

"So, that's all that occurred?"

"That's it, Giles." Buffy nodded, "a couple groups of vamps... no problem."

Xander's eyes widened as he glared over at her, but Buffy glared back and he stayed quiet.

"Very well..." Giles closed up his books, "It appears that the horizon is quiet for the moment... and with Halloween almost two weeks away... perhaps we'll get lucky."

Xander shot the older man a dirty look, "Not with you around to jinx us."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind, Giles." Buffy smiled involuntarily. "Is that it?"

"Yes... Yes I think that should suffice for the night." Giles permitted himself a fatherly smile at his Slayer.

"Great!" Buffy jumped up, "I've got a class with Professor Walsh in the morning, and she really get's annoyed if I fall asleep."

"Imagine that." Giles smiled slyly. "Go. Sleep. I'll speak with you tomorrow."

"Great. Xander?" Buffy half turned, "Are you coming?"

Xander hesitated.

"Come on, I'll walk you home." Buffy smirked at him.

Great. No wonder I only asked her out one. I'm the girl in this relationship. Xander thought to himself bitingly, but he nodded even so and got up, forcing a smile. "Anything for some Buffy time."

"Are you alright, Xander?" Buffy asked, sounding concerned as they walked along toward Xander's basement apartment. "You didn't get hurt earlier did you?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Oh."

The walked along a while longer, still in silence. "Xander?"

"Yeah, Buff?"

"Why are you so quiet then?"

Xander sighed, thinking hard. Ask her you coward! "Buffy... do you ever think `what if'?"

Buffy blinked, "What?"

"What if?" Xander said. "I've just been thinking that a lot today."

"What if what?"

"A lot of things, Buffy... What if... Jessie hadn't died. What if...  
Kendra hadn't died. What if... Miss Calender hadn't died... What if..."

"Xander... I..." Buffy's mouth was suddenly dry as she swallowed hard.

"You hadn't..." Xander turned to look at her, "Come back?"

A long silence hung between them as they walked, turning the corner and continuing down the street towards Xander's home.

"Xander... what are you...?"

"I guess I'm saying that... I think too much." Xander quirked a weak smile. Coward.

Buffy forced a smile herself. "Well, that's certainly a new complaint. Don't remember you ever saying that before."

Xander forced a laugh, and iot sounded forced. "Yeah. I guess my road trip had some effect, huh?"

"Other then the story that shall never be told?" Buffy smiled slyly at him.

"No power on this earth." Xander quoted himself, crossing his heart and looking to the heavens.

"So... seriously... What brought his on?" Buffy asked suddenly as she looked intently at him.

"I don't know." Xander lied glibly. "Just thinking."

"Well don't." Buffy smiled, "I hear it's bad for your health."

"Har de har har." Xander said sarcastically, taking a deep breath.  
"Buffy..."

"Yeah?"

"I also think... what if..." Xander took a breath as Buffy looked at him expectedly. Say it you asshole! "What if..."

"Yes?"

"What if I'd asked you out a little earlier." Xander finally said,  
swallowing as Buffy jerked up like she'd been slapped.

"Xander... I..."

"Give it to me straight, Buff." Xander said earnestly. "Would I have stood a chance? A few weeks earlier? Or if I'd kept trying?"

Buffy blinked, her mouth dry again, and tried to catch her breath.  
"Xander... I don't think..."

"Just say it..." Xander said, smiling softly. "Please."

"Xander... No... I..." Buffy floundered helplessly. "I don't know."

Xander nodded, "Yeah... I get that. Neither do I... and today it's just been eating me up."

"I don't understand, Xander... I thought... well, I didn't think..."

"What? That I was still carrying a torch?" Xander smiled sadly.

"Yeah." Buffy's voice was equally sad, and incredibly soft.

"I don't know if I am." Xander replied honestly. "I just know that today... I can't stop thinking about it."

"Just today?"

"Just today." Xander nodded. "Tomorrow? Who knows. Everything goes back to normal maybe... maybe..."

Buffy swallowed, stopping as Xander glanced up. "What?"

"We're here." He said, sticking his hands in his coat and looking to his house. "I'm home."

"Oh." She said quietly, "Well... I should be..."

"Yeah. Well, thanks for..."

"No problem. My pleasure. Really." Buffy said quickly as she started to walk away.

"Buffy!" Xander called out.

She came to a stop, almost against her will, and looked back. "Yes?"

"Go out with me?" He said hesitantly.

"Xander... I..." Buffy shook her head, her eyes flickering a little wildly. "I don't think that's a good idea..."

"But..."

"I've got to go." She said quickly, then run off.

Bravo Casanova. Xander thought grimly as he turned and trudged down into his parents basement. Way to crash and burn.

Chapter 5

Buffy was halfway back to UC Sunnydale before she slowed down from her run.

Oh god. Oh god. She swallowed, Xander asked me out. Why? Why now?  
I thought we were passed this...

As she got her breath back she calmed down a bit, thinking hard. Is it really such a bad thing? I mean... He's a good guy... a GREAT guy.

He's your best guy friend. A nagging voice of worry reminded her,  
Your *only* guy friend.

She had to admit, that was a telling blow against Xander whether he knew it or not. She loved him, she knew that. But she needed his friendship, his support.

He can give you that as a boyfriend. She thought.

No! It's not the same thing. Her mind retorted, He... he... he keeps me from drowning in the darkness. I can't drag him in with me!

He's not running away. That evil little voice reminded her. He's staying right with you... no matter what you do to push him out of it.  
He'll follow you down whether you like it or not.

NO! She grimaced, her fists tightening into hard little balls of granite as he shouted the voice down.

"I won't do it." She whispered. "I won't drag him down into my world."

Get real. He already lives in your world. You're just too blind to see it. That damnable voice whispered again.

Buffy let out a growl that quickly rose to a little shriek of frustration. "Damn you, Xander. Why are you doing this to me!?"

"My name's not Xander, babe... but I'll do anything you want to you..."

The voice came from the shadows and Buffy snapped around to see a figure emerge from the trees, dark sleazy and leering at her.

"Buzz off creep." She snarled. "I'm so not in the mood."

"Tsk tsk, what a mouth on such a pretty face." The figure vamped out, grinning at her as he charged. "Too bad for you *I* am in the mood!"

"What!" Buffy snapped out as she sidestepped the charge and kicked the vampire in the gut.

"Part!" He doubled over and Buffy drove her elbow into his spine,  
dropping him to the ground.

"Of Buzz Off!" She dropped to her knees right on the vampires kidneys, causing a cry of pain and expulsion of air.

"Didn't you understand!?" Buffy snarled out finally as she drove her stake home into the helpless vampire's back.

As he dusted, she caught herself from hitting the ground and got up,  
tossing her hair back out of her face as she looked down at the ground disdainfully. "Pitiful. I didn't even get to work off any of the tension."

As she continued on her way, her thoughts and doubts came screaming back at her.

"Oh God." Xander groaned, dropping into his bed and burying his head in his pillow. What if I just screwed up our friendship?

He rolled over, keeping the pillow secured over his face. I can't believe I was so stupid!

Well... yes I can. And how sad is that?

His arm whipped out, sending the pillow across the room as he lay there and stared at the ceiling. "I'm such a fucking loser."

As if to punctuate the statement he heard a crash from upstairs, and then the yelling started again. He groaned, grabbed another pillow,  
and buried his head once again as his parents reminded him of what he did NOT want his future to be.

What do I do?

Buffy stared up at the ceiling of her dorm room in the dark, her Slayer senses hyper augmented by her general mood and tense emotional state to the point that the thudding of Willow's heartbeat was driving her absolutely insane.

Xander asked me out.

It still seemed unreal to her, like something that should never have happened. Certainly not after how she'd treated him the last time.

he still saved your life after that. The cool, evil, whisper reminded her. And remember how you -didn't- thank him?

She groaned softly, remembering dancing with him two years ago,  
practically *fucking* him on the dance floor just to make Angel jealous.

Is that what is was for? The evil voice whispered again, Be honest. You didn't do that for Angel. You did it for you.

Buffy swallowed, her face paling as she felt a cold sweat hit her.  
Her mind was dragging her inexorably into places she didn't want to explore, things that she wanted to leave safely buried where no one,  
least of all herself, would ever have to face them.

You know why you did it. Admit it. It had nothing to do with Angel.

It did! She screamed internally, denying her own mind in a desperate bid to block out those haunting thoughts.

Right. Then why'd you rub in the fact that you'd never thanked Xander for saving your life?

Buffy pulled a pillow over her face, biting the material as she suppressed a sob. I don't want to think about this. I don't want to think about this!

Tough. Her mind sneered back at her, forcing her to face the darkness within. Admit it. Making Angel jealous was just bonus. Admit it!

Alright! She cried mentally, tears tracking down her cheeks and soaking the pillow. Alright. It had nothing to do with Angel.

She swallowed, sobbing into her pillow as she admitted something vitally deep in her, something she'd refused to face for over two years. Something that Xander had unlocked, as he was wont to do, with a single unwitting question.

Say it. She thought viciously. Outloud. Admit it. Say it! SAY IT!

"I... I..." She sobbed softly, hoping that Willow wasn't awake to hear her confession. She ahd to say it, but it wasn't meant for any ears but her own. "I did it to hurt him. To show him that I didn't really need him... I did it because I'm the Slayer and I'm not supposed to lose control in a fight. I did it because... because..."

SAY IT!

Her voice was soft, hoarse from crying, but the sound of it reached her ears between her racking sobs. "I hurt him because it felt like Xander had stolen something from me when he saved me from my own weakness."

When the words finally came out, the evil voice receded into the background and Buffy silently sobbed herself to sleep.

The next morning Xander was waking up late, not having to report for his new job until five PM.

Ah the wonderful life of a bartender. He sighed, pulling on his pants as he tried resolutely to avoid thinking about the night before.

With a little luck, maybe Buffy would be willing to ignore it too.

Fat chance, Xander winced, shaking his head. God I'm an idiot.

He finished getting dressed and stood up, looking at himself in the cracked mirror. Why would she say yes? You're a fucking bartender,  
working for minimum wage in a cheap campus pub. You look like shit,  
dress like a clown, and couldn't find two pennies to rub together without turning the couch upside down.

"What the fuck did I expect?" He said to his reflection as he finally shook his head and turned away.

He was trying to figure out something to do while waiting for his job to start when the phone rang. He stared at it like it was a poisonous snake, unwilling to go near it as it rang and rang.

Somewhere around the ninth ring, Xander jumped as his father bellowed from upstairs.

"Answer that god damned phone!"

He grabbed it halfway through the next ring, wincing as he put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey."

Willow smiled, "Hey you."

Oz hugged her as she threw herself at him, then frowned as he noted the soft quality of her smile. It wasn't altogether unusual for Willow, but it seemed a tad sad. "What's wrong?"

Willow dropped her smile, "I don't know. It's Buffy."

Oz glanced up the stairs toward the girls' room. "Oh?"

"I... I sort of heard her crying last night." Willow confided,  
snuggling against her boyfriend's chest. He draped both arms around her comfortingly as she spoke again, "She was talking in her sleep I think... I don't know... She sounded pretty bad."

"Huh." Oz said, considering. "This morning?"

"She looked ok." Willow said, shrugging painfully. "I... I don't know."

"She'll be good." He said confidently. "She's strong."

"I know... I just wish she had what we have, you know?"

"Yeah." He smiled at her, giving her another little squeeze. "I know."

"I'm lucky to have you."

"I'm luckier." Oz said in his stoic manner as he gave her another squeeze and Willow squirmed against him as if trying to get even closer.

Chapter 6

"I told you I'd check up on you, Xander." Joyce smiled into the phone.

She could hear the hesitation even over the phone and her smile widened. "Talk to me, Xander."

"Miss Summers, I'd really rather not."

"I take it you thought about it then?" Joyce asked.

"Not nearly enough." Xander replied in disgust.

"Oh?" Joyce' eyebrows climbed, "How's that?"

"Nothing." He mumbled over the phone.

"Right. Tell me, Xander... Or maybe I'll come by for a visit and ask in person."

"No!" Xander backpedaled quickly, not wanting to be around Joyce while she was on this kick. "No. That's ok... I... I'll tell you."

"Well?" She lightly rapped the table. "I'm waiting."

"I... I asked her out."

"Ok. That's good." Joyce smiled, "Though I'm assuming that she turned you down?"

"You could say that." Xander said bitterly.

Oh dear. This sounds worse then a simple refusal... Joyce was suddenly worried. She'd never really entertained the thought that Buffy would really slam the door on the idea, maybe her daughter wasn't as bright as She thought. "What happened?"

"She ran."

Joyce blinked. "What?"

"She turned on her heels and ran away from me." Xander said,  
definitely distressed.

"Without saying anything?" Joyce asked, confused.

"Well... no... She said she didn't think it was a good idea." Xander admitted.

"What did you say... exactly?" Joyce prompted.

"I..." Xander though furiously, against his better judgment to actually remmeber the events of the night before. "I said... Go out with me?"

"That's it?"

"Well... we were talking about things we wished were different and..." Xander hesitated. "And I sort of just asked her."

Joyce snickered lightly, "Oh my... You two are certainly a pair."

"Excuse me?"

"Xander... You dropped in on her... probably after patrol, am I right?" Joyce hoped she was, because if Xander had gotten her daughter that mixed up *before* patrol.

"Of course." Xander said, shocked. "I... I didn't want her distracted."

"Of course you didn't." Joyce said, not unkindly. She was gratified that she'd been right about him to that point at least. "So she ran..."

"Yeah." Xander said, sounding incredibly miserable over the phone line.

Joyce's eyes sparkled as she spoke. This was actually better then she'd hoped in a lot of ways, "Give it another chance, Xander."

"What? No offence, Miss Summers, but are you NUTS?"

Joyce laughed, "No, I'm not. I promise you... Don't give up."

"I'm not going through that again." Xander said resolutely. "I didn't get any sleep last night!"

Neither, I'll bet, did Buffy. Joyce smiled to herself. "Don't give up. Just think about it."

Xander groaned, almost causing Joyce to laugh out loud. She was about to continue when a sound from the door caused her to look up.

"Mom... Are you home?"

"I'm in here, Buffy!" Joyce said, then turned back to the phone.  
"Buffy just walked in... Maybe it's time I talked to her about this."

"Please. Don't do me any favors!" Xander pleaded.

"Bye..." Joyce grinned, hanging up the phone as Xander groaned again.

"Who was that, Mom?" Buffy asked curiously as she slumped down in the kitchen chair.

"Just a friend." Joyce smailed, then forced herself to frown.  
"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Buffy." Joyce said sternly.

Buffy sighed, playing with the quilted mat on the table in front of her, "Nothing."

"You wouldn't be here in the middle of the day if it was nothing...  
and," Joyce suddenly frowned for real. "Aren't you missing a class?"

"Free periods." Buffy sighed, "Mom..."

"Yes?"

"Never mind."

Joyce stifled a groan. Xander was easy compared to this. "Alright."

She started back around her daily chores, wondering how to broach the subject without tipping her hand too much.

"Mom, I think I have a problem." Buffy said, interrupting her thoughts.

Xander's a problem? Joyce smirked, I used to love those kinds of problems. "Oh? Tell me about it..."

Buffy looked down at the table, "It... It kind of starts a long time ago. When we first came to Sunnydale."

"Ok..." Joyce got a little more serious and sat down. "What about it?"

"Well... You see... some stuff happened."

"Really?" Joyce said dryly, "I'd never have guessed... what with you telling me that you died and all."

"That's the thing I'm talking about." Buffy said, her mouth drying as she tried to swallow.

Joyce eyed her warily, "Why?"

"Something happened last night..." Buffy admitted, "And it forced me to think about some things I've done... Things I'm not really proud of, mom."

"Tell me." Joyce said, smiling softly and caringly.

"I... I drowned that night. The Master drained me, and then he threw me in a pool of water to drown..." Buffy said hesitatingly, painfully.  
"And I... Well, I died."

Joyce swallowed, losing her smile. It didn't matter how many times she heard it, she never became hardened against the thought. "And then?"

"And then... I was back." Buffy said, a soft smile. "I looked up,  
and Angel was there..."

Joyce felt the familiar distaste for the man in question form.

"But it was Xander who'd saved me." Buffy finished.

Joyce straightened up, she'd heard some of the story but someone had left this detail out. "Xander?"

Buffy nodded, "Yeah... He... well I didn't find out until later everything he'd done. But he'd forced Angel to show him where the Master's Layer was and when they got there... he... he did CPR to save me."

Joyce was silent. It seemed that her choice was better then she knew, she'd have to find out if Xander was hiding anything else.

But Buffy wasn't done. "I never thanked him."

"What?" Joyce ripped her attention from her thoughts and forced them back to Buffy. "Why not?"

Buffy swallowed, "I didn't know really... not until last night. I...  
I even did something bad to him later..."

"Bad? Like what?"

"It doesn't matter." Buffy said, flushed. "I just did. And last night... what happened... it made me admit something."

"What?"

"I... I thought I was making Angel jealous when I did that to Xander... but... I wasn't." Buffy shook her head, tears starting to well up in her eyes as she confessed something that she'd been holding in for years. "I was just hurting Xander."

"Buffy..." Joyce said in shock, "Why?"

"Because he saved me." Buffy said. "Everyone thought I was going to die. Angel. Giles. Me. Xander saved me when I'd given up."

Joyce shook her head, "Buffy... I don't understand..."

"You think I do?" Buffy asked, her voice anguished. "God, Mom... I just... I can't BE saved. I'm the hero, remember? I'm not supposed to need someone... like Xander."

Joyce was silent, her mind reeling from the information as those two words spun around in her mind. Like Xander?

Buffy though, was still off on her own tack. "I can't believe I did that, Mom. I don't know who I am... I can't believe he did that after..."

"After what?" Joyce came back to the conversation.

"After... well..." Buffy flushed again, looking depressed. "After I turned him down when he asked me out."

Joyce leaned back, thinking. Obviously things aren't nearly as simple as I thought they would be.

She sighed, "Buffy... He loves you."

"Mom... don't say that." Buffy begged, "I love him too, but I can't love him like that. I can't."

First thing's first. "Buffy... what did you mean... Like Xander?"

"What?"

"You said that you're the Slayer. You aren't supposed to need help from someone... like Xander."

Buffy shook her head, "I... I don't know."

"Buffy." Joyce sighed, "Just say it."

Buffy looked miserable, but she nodded. "He's... well, a normal person. Even a klutz."

Joyce sighed and leaned back again, "Is that a bad thing?"

"No! But... But I'm supposed to save him..." Buffy confessed finally. "I'm supposed to save *him*."

Joyce nodded, starting to understand part of the problem. Probably a small part of it, but part of it.

Chapter 7

Joyce sighed as she sat back on the couch and considered the events of the morning.

Damn Giles and everybody else connected with the Slayer. She grimaced, rubbing her red eyes and holding her emotions in check.  
Damn them all to hell.

"Oh baby. What are we going to do?"

The problem went so much deeper then she thought, it was a miracle that her daughter was still sane considering the crap she'd endured.

Prophecies of her death. Murderous lovers. Monsters from the grave.

And all of it thrust on her for some reason that no one would, or possibly could, explain.

Why'd they put it all on one persons shoulders!? Joyce raged,  
getting to her feet and pacing. It wasn't fair. It didn't make ANY sense.

Why Buffy? Why *Anyone*, but for God's sake, why HER daughter!?

Joyce took a breath and tried to calm down. It was done, there was nothing she could do to reverse it now. Trying to stop Buffy from being who she was would only exacerbate the problems, forcing her to go even further underground in her calling, while ripping away the opportunity of confiding in her mother.

That wasn't an option.

Ok. So the basic plan is still the best one. Joyce finally decided after getting herself back under control. This Parker *scum* has hurt her... Angel hurt her... She needs someone who won't.

Joyce nodded, to herself, breathing deeply. "Oh honey...What am I supposed to do? I know you wouldn't want me interfering in your life... and I don't even know if this is the right thing anyway."

Joyce shook her head and climbed the stairs, heading for the bathroom.

Xander threw his shirt across the room, tired and disgusted with himself. He simply couldn't do anything other then keep his promise to Joyce. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think about anything else now.

He'd put Buffy behind him, more or less, at least as a love interest. He really had, no matter what that twice damned voice in the back of his head kept whispering.

He loved her, sure. But he loved Willow too, hell he loved Cordy and missed her as much as anything else. But this, this was too much. Miss Summers was bringing everything back up, dredging up long submerged thoughts and forcing them back to the surface.

Why couldn't she had gotten on this kick back when I was at the peak of Buffy lust? Xander groaned, then made a mental note NOT to mention the words Buffy and Lust in the same sentence to Miss Summers.

She'd either kill him, or take it as a good sign. And frankly, he didn't know which would be worse.

A knock at the door to his basement apartment startled him.

"Who the hell could that be?" He shrugged, walking up to the door and opening it. "Anya?"

Red eyed, tear streaked cheeks, and very very tired, Buffy figured that she looked like hell. Which suited her just fine for once. She made her way from Revello drive down toward Xander's place.

Now was the time, she had to have this out with Xander and finish it now before things got out of hand. She couldn't risk her friendship with Xander on the trainwreck that was her love life. He deserved more then that, and she needed him to understand that.

She swallowed as she approached the house steeling herself to counter any feeble objections he might raise.

She didn't expect to hear what she heard.

Joyce finished running the bath adding oils and scent to the water as she dimmed the bathroom lights and dropped her house robe to the floor.

"Uhhhhnnnnnnnnnggggg..." She groaned as she stepped into the hot water and let herself sink below it's steaming depths.

She needed this.

Badly.

The heat of the water and the slick sensation of the oil started to unknot the bunched muscles that had resulted from her foray into the tortured soul that she now knew belonged to her eldest Daughter.

The whole situation was ludicrous. Super Hero's weren't supposed to have psychological problems, the concept seemed insane, but that was what kept tripping Joyce up.

Her daughter wasn't a super hero.

There were no super heros. They didn't exist. No matter what powers her little girl had, how invulnerable Buffy seemed, she was only human. And she had human needs, human frailties, and human vices.

And, if no one took care of those frailties, the pressure being exerted on her would break her. Joyce knew that as much as she knew her own name. Buffy was strong, but no human could withstand that pressure for very long. It would start small, or rather, Joyce corrected herself, it had already started small, but it would soon reach a critical mass. And when that happened, Joyce Summers' little girl would crumble as her problems began to snowball exponentially.

And when that happened, as Joyce knew it would, Buffy would break.

And when the Slayer breaks, people would die. And Buffy would accept that pressure onto her shoulder as well.

If no one did anything, Joyce was terrified that her little girl would wind up dead, or irrevocably damaged on a mental and emotional level.

Probably the second, and then later the first.

Joyce sighed, almost a single long sob as she ran her hands over her face and rubbed the scented water into her skin. Why are the Watchers allowing this!? They have to know it's happening... They HAVE to know.

Do they? Joyce suddenly let her hands drop until they were crossed over her breasts and she slumped back as her eyes widened. Oh God.  
Maybe they don't. How often does a Slayer make it this long?

Not often. Even she knew that, Buffy herself had told her as much.  
Slayers die young. Joyce swallowed, sitting up in the tub as she held herself against the realization that was striking her.

Slayer's die.

Buffy herself had already admitted that she'd died once, and only the intervention of Xander had brought her back. How many other times had she been saved, in one way or another, by Xander? Or Willow? Or even Angel?

Joyce swallowed as an unreal terror struck her. She got out of the tub, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body.

Her baby girl was already bucking the odds, but Joyce was no ones fool. The odds were never in favor of the players, they always favored the house.

And the house, here in Sunnydale, was owned by the night.

"Hey, whoa... Anya, look I don't know what you're expecting but..."

"Well, I wasn't expecting the bare chested reception, but it's certainly halfway there."

Buffy flattened herself against a large tree, listening to the conversation though she knew she shouldn't.

"Anya! Hands to yourself... Now what's going on?"

"I came back for us."

"Us? What us? Anya, we went to the Prom... but we didn't even like each other..."

"Well yeah, there is that... but I can't get you out of my mind now... so I got to thinking that maybe some sex would help me think about other people."

Silence for a moment, and Buffy's eyes widened.

"What!?" Xander blew. "Not that I'm really up on what passes for logic in women, but I'm pretty sure that you just went off the reservation in a BIG way."

Did he just compare... THAT... to women in general? Buffy grimaced. If I weren't eavesdropping, I'd hit him for that.

"Xander..."

"No. Look... Anya," Xander sighed, "I'm already neck deep in girl trouble right now. And as much as I'd like some way to simplify everything... This isn't it. It wouldn't be fair to you, it wouldn't be fair to me..."

Buffy's heart skipped slightly. Is he talking about me? Off course he is. I'm making his life complicated, aren't I?

Duh.

Buffy grimaced again, then went back to listening.

"Come on, Anya... Why are you after me anyway? I'm not exactly Sunnydale's most eligible bachelor..."

"You're the only one I know."

Buffy heard Xander groan, and winced. Whether he was interested in Anya or not, that HAD to hurt.

"Anya..." His voice was shockingly gentle for someone who had just taken a dagger to the gut. "You're a beautiful girl... believe me,  
there are others... guys without my issues."

Buffy blinked, feeling a familiar sting in her eyes at the pain in his voice. Damn you, Xander.

"But... I'm offering myself to you?" Anya's voice was as laced with confusion as Xander's had been with pain, and even Buffy felt a pang of sympathy for the confused ex-demon.

She heard Xander sigh, "Anya... the way my luck is running right now, I'd trip and break my neck halfway to the bed."

Buffy didn't hear what Anya said, but she heard Xander a moment later.

"Hey... Come on now, it's not that bad. Look, why don't you come in..." Xander suddenly yelped. "but NO touching!"

Anya sounded disappointed. "Alright."

"Come on, I'll get us something to eat... and we can *talk*, Anya...  
maybe you'll be able to explain to me why you came back..."

Buffy heard the door close, cutting off the sound of Xander's voice,  
and she just leaned against the tree for a long while. She wasn't sure if she was happy with the situation or not.

On the one hand, if Anya could win him over, that would solve her problems neatly. On the other, it was a little irritating to be replaced quite this quickly.

To say nothing of being considered a `problem'. Buffy frowned, You say that to my face, Xan, and I'll show you a real *problem*.

She started to walk away from Xander's home, shivering from tension.

Afterall... *I'm* not the one who STARTED this mess, Xander Harris.

Chapter 8

"Hey Boss," Xander muttered, grabbing an apron as he hopped over the bar. "Sorry I'm late."

"No problem, kid. It's only a couple minutes." The owner of the bar looked up, "The idiots haven't started coming in yet."

Xander chuckled, nodding. "Well, Tonight I'll take the worst this place can throw at me. It'll be a rest cure compared to my life right about now."

The ownery laughed shortly, shaking his head. "I don't think I want to know... Hell, yes I do. What could be worse then the frat twits?"

Xander chuckled, mopping the bar off and checking the stock. He'd been tending bar here for the last week and it seemed that he was starting to get the hang of things, more or less. "Girl trouble. With a capital `t' and two G's."

"Ouch." The man laughed, "That kind of luck no man deserves...  
Course, I'm not sure if it was bad luck or good luck you're talking about... but still, no man deserves it."

"Funny." Xander smiled lopsidedly. "Let's just say that I'll take drunken frat boys for the night with a grin and a whisper of thanks to God."

"Don't whisper. He'll never hear you over those idiots." The owner advised with a smile. "Scream."

"Gotcha." Xander grinned, then turned back to his work.

"Hey Summers!"

Buffy looked up from where she had been brooding, Yes brooding. I can admit it. "What?"

A guy made his way over to her, "You alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Bullshit." The guy grinned.

Buffy frowned at him, trying to remember his name. "Look, uh..."

"Jackson. Remember? Jeremy Jackson. We're in Walsh's Psych class together."

"Right. Jeremy... Look, I'm fine. Ok?"

"Come on, Summers. You look like someone killed you're best friend."  
The guy grinned lopsidedly at her, "Me and a couple others are heading out for the night. Have a little party, down a few drinks. Come on,  
join us."

Buffy shook her head, "I don't..."

"Come on, Summers. This is College. Live a little!"

Buffy sighed, dropping her head. Finally she looked up and forced a smile, "Alright. Let's go."

"Alright! Party!"

"What'll it be?"

Buffy looked up in shock, blurting out, "Xander?"

"Buffy?" Xander smiled hesitantly at her, "What are you doing in here?"

Buffy looked around, "I uh... well... I'm just having a little fun."

Xander looked at he with a bit of concern, but Buffy could see him force that aside as he smiled again. "Sure. Cool."

"Hey, you know this guy?"

Buffy and Xander glanced to one side to see the Frat guy, Jeremy,  
come bustling up to Buffy's side.

"Or is this townie bugging you?"

"I'm fine, Jeremy." Buffy smiled.

"Oh. Cool." Jeremy shrugged, "Hey man, brewskies all around. K?"

"Coming right up." Xander said calmly, reaching under the bar for glasses. "Three at your table?"

"Four man." Jeremy wrapped an arm around Buffy's shoulders. "Can't you count?"

Xander frowned, glancing at Buffy. She just nodded slightly, looking a little embarrassed, so he nodded. "Right. Four."

"Bring `em to the table, man." Jeremy moved off, pulling Buffy along with him.

She looked back over her shoulder apologetically, but Xander wasn't looking as he forced himself to focus on topping off the mugs. Do I look like a waiter you shmuck?

Later in the evening, Buffy came up to the bar while Xander had a few minutes to talk.

"Hey." She said softly.

"Hey," He smiled back.

"Look... You know, I'm just here to..."

"Hey, Buff..." Xander put up his hands, trying to smile easily. "I'm not judging. You're in college now... This isn't highschool anymore."

"Yeah... well, you know," Buffy said, feeling a strange twinge.

"Yeah. I know." Xander said.

The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, and Xander was suddenly captivated by Buffy's teeth as they bit gently into her lower lip. He didn't notice it, but he leaned closer and swallowed.

Buffy noticed, and felt herself drawn toward him, not knowing why exactly. She look up at him, the feeling of the beer in her system clouding her usual impulse control. As their faces drew closer, she automatically hooded her eyes, looking at him through her eyelashes.

We're going to kiss... She thought, suddenly frightened but unable to pull away as her heart pounded in her chest. Oh my God... We're really going to...

Xander's eyes widened as he realized what how close he was getting,  
and he hesitated for just a second.

That broke the spell on Buffy and she pulled back in a flash,  
shaking her head. "Uh... Right. I've got to... you know... get back."

"Right. Get back. Sure..." Xander said dumbly as she walked away.

"Alright guys," Xander announced a few hours later. "Closing time."

There was a series of half articulated mumbles and complaints, but Xander just forced a smile as he looked around. "Sorry guys, but the rules are the rules. We're open tomorrow night for your drinking pleasure."

He just caught one of the Frat guys as the man half stumbled to his feet, then just plain stumbled. "Hey, Buddy... You think you can make it to your Frat?"

"Sure can make it." The guy slurred, "I good walker."

"Right you are." said, steadying him. "Just across campus, k? No detours or side trips. Got it?"

"Got it." The guy muttered, pulling two of his `brothers' to their feet now that he had his mission. "To home!"

"To home!" The others repeated. They turned, "Come on... To home!"

Buffy and the other girl they'd brought with them looked up, but Buffy just yawned. The brunette nodded, climbing to her feet. "Home!"

Xander sighed as he watched the frat guys and their freind take off without Buffy, he shook his head as he helped her up. "Hey Boss?"

"Yeah, Xander?"

"Can you lock up without me tonight? I've got to see my friend home... I don't think she'll make it too far on her own."

"Yeah, sure, Xan. Be on time tomorrow, hear me!?"

"Got it! Thanks."

"Night."

Xander staggered through the halls of the Dorm with Buffy hanging off his shoulder, looking for her door as the blond Slayer giggled on his arm. God. What happened to Slayer constitution?

He snorted as he found the door and knocked softly for Willow.  
Buffy better hope it kicks in by tomorrow, cause if it doesn't she's gonna have a wicked hang over.

There was no response so he rapped again, louder.

"Come on, Willow..." He muttered, annoyed.

"Willow'sh not home..." Buffy giggled.

"Huh? Why?"

"Ozsh..."

Xander groaned, "Great. Do you have a key?"

She sort of half shrugged and grinned. "Shearch me."

Xander groaned, but after a moment set out to do exactly that. He checked her jacket pockets, sighing when they came up empty, then groaned as he realized that they key would have to be in her jeans.  
Buffy giggled when he sighed and patted down the sides of her pants.  
Right pocket...

"This doesn't mean anything." He stated, fishing his hand into her pocket and pulling out the keys despite Buffy's non-stop giggling.

"Ticklish..." She slurred out, leaning against him as she laughed.

"That's nice." Xander said, unlocking the door. "Come on..."

He got her to the bed, where she promptly collapsed and seemed to go out like a light.

What is it about drunk people? Xander wondered. They always seem to switch off the second they hit a bed...

He sighed and shook his head as he lifted Buffy up onto the bed,  
undoing her shoes and dropping them by the bunk. "I hope you feel better in the morning then I think you will."

He tossed a cover over the slumbering Slayer and shook his head as he headed for the door. He hesitated at the door, glancing between the dead bolt and Buffy, and went back to grab her keys.

After locking the door from the outside, he forced the keys under the door and took off.

College life looks a lot like my parents working life. He mused darkly as he left the dorm and started the long trudge home.

Chapter 9

The next morning didn't exactly start off with a bang for Buffy.

Or rather, it did, much to her ire.

Bang!

The loud smack brought Buffy up out of bed with a shriek of pain. "Ow!"

Willow froze in place, staring in shock. "Buffy?"

"Shhh... not so loud." Buffy groaned.

"What's wrong, Buffy?"

"Head. Demons. Many of them... playing drums." Buffy groaned out,  
rolling over bed and pulling a pillow over her head. "Make them stop?"

"Umm... right." Willow said quietly. "And just what were you doing last night?"

Buffy pulled the pillow off her head and frowned, thinking hard. It hurt.

She groaned, closing her eyes. "I think I was in the bar."

"Bar? Buffy! You're not twenty one!"

"Shhh... not so loud." She groaned. "I went with some others... they had fake Ids."

"Do you?"

"No."

Willow frowned, "And nobody checked you?"

Buffy smirked, then winced. "Xander's working there. If he kicks me out, I'll tell."

"Xander's working at a bar?" Willow practically shrieked.

Buffy groaned again, "Willow!"

"Sorry... sorry..."

"I think I'm dying..." Buffy groaned. "I'm never EVER drinking again."

"Good for you."

Xander got up a little late, pulling himself out of bed to answer the phone at about twelve thirty.

"Yah?" He sort of mumbled out.

"Xander?"

Oh no. Xander groaned, "Hello Miss Summers."

"Have you seen Buffy?"

Well, at least she wasn't looking for him.

"No, Miss Summers." Xander shook his head, "Why? Is something wrong?"

"No... no... probably not." Joyce said over the line. "It's just that she and I had a dinner date... she was supposed to be here by now."

Xander groaned, thinking as quickly as he could manage. "Don't worry... I'm sure she's fine. She had a... tiring night last night."

"Patrol was bad?"

"Something like that... yeah."

"Well..." Joyce sounded like she was smiling. "I have a dinner here,  
and no one to eat it... Why don't you come over?"

Oh no... You're not getting me like that again! Xander paled, "I...  
ummm... I'm not really very hungry, Miss Summers."

"Liar."

"Miss Summers!"

"Just come over, I want to talk to you."

Xander groaned, slumping on his bed.

"I heard that."

At ten past one, Xander looked up at the Summers' home and sighed.  
He really did NOT want to go in there.

But, Joyce asked him too... and she cooked.

He shrugged and forced a smile, heading up the drive.

The door opened before he got onto the first step. "You stood out there long enough... am I really that scary?"

Joyce was smiling at him, her lips twitching as her eyes sparkled with a humor that Xander recognized from Buffy's face. He smiled against his own will and nodded, "Yes Ma'am."

She glowered at him, but finally smiled and stepped aside. "Dinners on the table.

"Buffy... are you alright?"

Buffy glanced up at Willow, frowning, as she ate the sandwich she'd just stolen from another girl. "Fine. Why?"

"Umm... No reason."

"I wanted to talk to you about Buffy." Joyce smiled as Xander ate.

This time he was expecting it, so he didn't choke half to death while trying to swallow the stew. Instead he swallowed, then resignedly took a drink of water. "Ok... shoot."

"Have you thought about what I said?" She smiled slightly.

"Have I thought about anything else?" Xander rolled his eyes, then groaned as he realized what he'd just flippantly said.

Joyce grinned triumphantly. "I knew it."

"Miss Summers... Please. Don't do this to me, I can't take it."  
Xander moaned. "I've been through the emotional ringer too many times over Buffy... I really just want to settle down, get a job, hunt vampires, and maybe date someone who does run away at full speed when I ask her out."

Joyce sighed sympathetically, "Xander... Trust me, she wouldn't ru away if she wasn't scared."

"Buffy isn't scared of anything."

"Xander, you know better then that." Joyce said, "And right now I think that she's more afraid of you then anything."

Xander looked vaguely sickened by that thought.

"That's not a bad thing, Xander." Joyce assured him. "Trust me."

"Famous last words." He replied dryly.

"It just means that she's thinking about it."

"Thinking on the run." Xander said flippantly.

"Just... remember what I said," Joyce smiled. "Don't give up on her... no matter what."

That night, Xander frowned slightly, masking his disappointment when he watched Buffy come in with the same group as the night before. He finished clearing the bar and looked up just as the jerk, Jeremy that is, stopped at the bar.

"Brewskies, man."

Xander nodded, "You got it, Pal."

He filled the mugs, shooting glances at Buffy the whole time, but she wasn't looking his way as he filled the tray and made his way to the table. "Beers for the partiers."

"Bout time," Jeremy said.

"Sorry," Xander smiled slightly, remembering the advice of the bar's owner. Never get pissed, it's no good for your health or the bars business.

"Damn right." The guy just muttered as he set them down.

Xander looked over to Buffy, "Hey Buff are you sure..."

"Go way. Drinking." Buffy muttered.

Xander's eyes widened in surprise and he stepped back, "Uh ok... Sure."

Xander went back around to the bar, but kept shooting glances back toward that table as he continued working.

The night was well started about an hour later, perhaps way past that for Buffy and the group she was with in Xander's opinion.

Time and time again he started to head over there, to tell Buffy she had to go home, and time and time again he paused. He didn't think she'd even listen to him now, not considering the crap

He sighed, shaking his head, and went over to the jukebox. A few moments later, the music was filling the bar and covering up the odd grunts and single word comments from the noisiest table.

"Oooh..."

Xander jumped, half turning. "Buffy, jeez you scared..."

He stopped, frowning as Buffy cooed and started climbing up on the jukebox.

"Ok, that's it." Xander announced, "You're cut off."

Buffy looked at him oddly, tilting her head. "Did it hurt?"

Xander opened his mouth, but couldn't figure out anything to say before he was interrupted by the group back at the table finally noticing that Buffy was gone.

"Where girl?"

Xander half turned around, frowning. What the hell is wrong with these guys? Even Dad doesn't get THIS loaded.

He was chasing Buffy across the room, trying to get her to go home,  
when a form suddenly burst from the bathroom and attacked him.

Things pretty much went downhill from there.

Xander fell back, taking Buffy with him as they crashed through a table and rolled along the floor. He shook his head, scrambling to his feet. "Buffy we have to..."

Buffy staggered up to her feet and growled like a feral animal.

Xander spun around, looking around him and noted that he was suddenly surrounded by four very pissed off people who seemed to have trouble standing upright, not altogether unusual for drunks he supposed, but also had somehow managed to *change* into something that resembled neanderthals.

"Oh." Xander muttered, looking around. "Hell."

A moment later, Xander found himself flying across the bar and slamming into the mirror behind it. As he collapsed behind the bar,  
everything went black.

Chapter 10

Buffy stared for a moment to where the boy had vanished from sight,  
frowning.

That wasn't right.

Boy not supposed to get hurt.

Not right.

She turned back to the man that had thrown him, grunting her displeasure, but he ignored her and moved to finish off his enemy.

"No! Boy MINE!" Buffy snarled, leaping in front of him, wielding her club.

The man fell back, just out of her reach. "Girl, stop. Come here.  
Drink."

"Leave boy."

"No. Finish enemy." The man grunted in return.

"No."

The man snarled, but fell back to confer with his two compatriots.  
After a few moments they turned on her and advanced determinately.

Buffy held her place, nailing the closest with a shot to the skull from her club. He fell back, but the other two grabbed her and forced her back. "No! No! Stop!"

They just growled and gibbered as they fought with her for control of her club. She felt her back hit something solid, and then her wrist was slammed against the wood behind her until she lost her grip on the club and it tumbled from her grasp.

The two of them continued to struggle with Buffy as the third one,  
the one who had struck Xander, went behind the bar and appeared triumphantly with the limp body of his foe pressed high over his head.  
He growled, attracting the attention of Buffy and the other two, and physically hurled Xander from the bar into the center of the room.

The two fighting Buffy growled their appreciation, but Buffy suddenly surged up in rage as they were distracted.

She crashed her skull into the face of the first one, grunting with the sharp pain but not letting it stop her. The second one received a sharp blow from her fist, and Buffy rolled free and retrieved her club. She rose to her feet angrily, sweeping it around and forcing the two of them back.

"Boy mine!" She screamed, suddenly throwing herself across the room and landing on the back of the third man.

They went sprawling, rolling as they kicked and clawed at each other, and finally came apart and got to their feet. Buffy circled away from the man as she tried to keep the three of them in sight. "Go way! Boy nice. Boy mine!"

When Xander opened his eyes, there was a large blur above him, and that was about all he could really see eclipsed against the ceiling light.

He could hear grunting all around him, and the occasional word seemed to make it through the single syllable sounds.

"You Girl. Come."

"No. Stay."

"Come!"

There was a noise above him, and Xander blinked as he tried to clear his eyes. When he finally managed it, he was dead certain that he was seeing things.

Buffy was standing above him, literally straddling his body as she swung a club right out of some neanderthal movie put together by Hollywood. Where in the hell did she find that anyway?

He didn't get a chance to figure that out when he saw something large suddenly rush Buffy. Make that somethingS large. He corrected himself a moment later as another figure entered into the mix.

Xander looked around quickly, trying like hell to get his bearings.

Ok... still in the bar. He found, noting that somehow he'd wound up dragged back into the middle of the bar, and also, that his shirt was pretty much shredded by whatever had happened to bring him there.

He groaned, then grunted in pain as Buffy stepped on him while struggling with the two figures above him. Xander quickly rolled out of the way, and pushed himself to his feet as he took in the scene.

Ok. This is new. He thought to himself, as he watched Buffy struggle with two neaderthals who were trying to pin her down.

That in itself probably wouldn't be so strange, what WAS strange was the fact that Buffy herself was clearly not her regular, cheerful,  
homo-sapiens, self.

Xander's eyes widened as one of the neaderthals backhanded Buffy,  
sending the lighter framed girl sprawling. "Hey!"

His yell brought there attention his way, and Xander swallowed.

For one, they were big. For another, there were three of them, he now noted, and that was two more then he could even really hope to handle.

Think! Think! Xander ordered himself, until that wise assed voice popped back in. Yeah. Right. That'll happen.

Xander grimaced, backpedaling away from the advancing figures and kept trying to light a fire under his mind.

Wait! Fire!

It was stupid, incredibly so in fact, but it was the best Xander could come up with. He fished his Zippo lighter from his pocket and flipped it open. When his thumb flicked the flintwheel, and the flame caught, the three neaderthals fell back in wonder and began to gibber in fear.

"That's right!" Xander strode forward, "Behold, Zeppo master of the Zippo!"

He thrust the flame closer to the three of them and they fell back,  
chattering and gibbering in fear until they finally broke and ran for the door.

Xander watched them go, a little dumbly as he looked at the flickering flame. "Holy shit, I can't believe that actually worked."

A whimper of fear from beside him caused Xander to spin around, only to see Buffy backing away from him from where he had fallen.

"Hey! Hey..." He flipped the lighter shut, "It's ok... See? Fire's gone now..."

Buffy stared up at him, eyes filled with awe and shock.

He stared back, eyes filled with concern and worry.

The moment stretched into a tiny eternity, and then was broken suddenly as Buffy half sobbed and half laughed as she jumped up and threw herself at him.

"Wha...!" Xander yelped in shock as he suddenly had a very tactile and affectionate Slayer hanging off him. "... the hell is going on here!?"

The bar's owner popped his head up from behind the bar, frowning at the damage. "I didn't think they change in my bar... damn."

Xander spun around, inadvertently hauling Buffy with him. "What!?"

Giles woke up to the sound of his phone ringing constantly and groaned as he rolled over in bed and grabbed for the offending piece of technology.

"Infernal things... Hello?"

"Giles! Help! Trouble!"

Giles blinked, recognizing the voice. "Please, Xander. Do be a little more specific."

"Buffy's... sick. We've got some cavement running around campus...  
and well, I really think you should get down here."

"Buffy's ill?" Giles sat up in bed, "I'll call Joyce immediately,  
she'll get Buffy to the hospital while we handle..."

"No!" Xander's voice sounded distinctly panicky. "Miss Summers doesn't need to know about this..."

"What? Why?"

"Buffy's... well, she's kinda drunk."

"Drunk?" Giles was agahst. It took incredible amounts of alcohol to inebriate a Slayer, and it didn't happen very often. "Good lord. Where did she get the alcohol?"

"Well... ummm... You see... From me."

"What!?"

"Giles, just get down here! This isn't normal drunk, ok? This is Hellmouth drunk! The beer was spiked with some kinda spell!"

"Good lord." Giles swallowed, "I'll be right there. Where are you,  
*precisely*?"

"We're at the campus Pub. But I'm going to try to get Buffy back to her room before she hurts someone."

"Is she violent?" The last thing Giles wanted was a drunk, violent,  
Slayer.

"Not exactly. She's just..." Xander seemed to search for the word.  
"Cranky."

Giles blinked. "Pardon? Cranky?"

"She wants more beer." Xander sighed.

"For the love of God, don't give her any!" Giles snapped.

"Way ahead of ya." Xander said, "Beer BAD for Buffy. Got it."

"You should have bloody well got it *before* you served her in the first place." Giles snapped, "I'm incredibly disappointed in you, Xander."

"Yeah well... Not too happy with myself right now. Just get down here, alright?" Xander said, dejected.

"I'm on my way." Giles said, then hung up the phone and dove for his clothes.

Xander hung up the phone and sighed. "Giles is coming."

Buffy looked up at him from where she was hunched. "Bring beer?"

"No! No more beer." Xander said, sternly as he could. "Beer Bad."

"Want beer." Buffy pouted.

"Too bad." Xander sighed, "Come on. Let's go."

"Where go?"

"You're room."

Buffy smiled, hugging to his arm. "Good. Boy smell nice."

Xander looked down at her with wide eyes, Oh hell no. Not this again.

Then he frowned and sniffed at his clothes. "I smell like I took a bath in liqueur..."

"Boy smell nice." She repeated.

Great. Now I'm babysitting an alcoholic cave slayer. Xander groaned. Oh no, my life isn't complicated... not at all.

Chapter 11

Xander had managed to lead Buffy almost halfway across the campus before the scream ripped through the darkness.

Both of them automatically looked in the direction of the scream,  
and Xander's eyes began to dart back and forth between Buffy and the direction of the scream.

Jesus. I can't risk Buffy in a fight while she's in this shape! I mean...

That was about as far as he got before Buffy charged off, yelling over her shoulder. "Boy wait here!"

"Aw hell! Buffy!" Xander snapped as he took off in chase, "No! Wait!"

Xander chased her, while Buffy chased the source of the scream,  
across th campus and into the dark shadows behind one of the sorority buildings. As they approached, Xander's eyes made out four figures surrounding two girls who were cowering in fright.

Buffy threw herself against the nearest of the figure, clubbing one and throwing both feet against another so that the three of them went into a heap. Xander cursed as he spotted the distinctive vampire faces, grabbing the stake he always carried now and threw himself into the fray as well.

He hit the closest Vampire high, bowling the surprised creature over, and slammed his stake down into the demon's chest.

Well, that was the plan.

When the vampire screamed in pain but didn't dust, Xander looked down and winced. He yanked the stake out of the vamp's throat, and plunged it down again.

Poof.

As the vamp staked, Xander started to get up, but found himself suddenly helped when he caught a kick in the chest that sent him flying and knocked the stake jarred from his hands. He spun in the air and crashed into the sorority in a hell of a lot of pain, the screams of the two girls fading as did what little light existed.

He hit the ground on his hands and knees, desperately trying to keep whatever control over his body he currently had from slipping into the darkness around him.

Buffy rolled with the vampire she'd tackled, her fingers hook like claws as she literally ripped the soft tissue of it's throat out and slammed her knees into it's stomach and crotch with repeated blows.  
The vampire screamed in pain until it lost it's throat, but then nothing more then a gurgling sound would come out and the night felt suddenly quieter.

The fight only lasted seconds, but by the end of it the vampire was utterly crippled and unable to move, let alone fight and Buffy just snarled as she delivered the coup the gras to it's heart and it vanished into merciful death. She bounded back to her feet, spinning to intercept the one she'd kicked just as she saw Xander strike the wall.

"Boy!" She snarled, blowing through the still unsteady vampire like he wasn't there and intercepting the one that was attacking Xander.

Light was slowly returning to him as Xander gasped for air and tried to hold out against the ripping pain in his chest. He looked up just in time to see the vampire that had attacked him come straight in to finish the job.

"Boy!"

Xander blinked, almost missing the entire scene as Buffy flashed in from nowhere and hit the vampire in a tackle that would make any football player proud. The two flashed back into the shadows and Xander groaned as he felt the rush of relief.

Not that he liked being saved, but he liked dying even less.

He pushed himself off the ground and leaned heavily on the brick behind him, coughing painfully. He leaned over, spitting flem and saliva onto the ground and peered at it in the darkness. Doesn't look like blood... thank god.

Motion caught his eye then, and he snapped his head up and his eyes widened. Oh shit.

Anger clouded what little control Buffy had enjoyed to that point,  
making the struggle with the vampire a much less certain thing then it should have been. Even so, her ferocious attack ripped into the demon with such primal force that the Slayer was winning the battle.

The vampire rocked her head back with a vicious punch that had the slayer seeing stars, then slammed his knee into her gut. She snarled,  
straightening her head up and slammed the crown of her head into it's jaw, splintering bone and teeth. As the vampire fell back she delivered s trike to it's chest and the vamp looked up in shock as it started to dust.

Buffy stared down at it, smiling in victory, for a few seconds.  
Then, as she started to look away, she was hit by a blow from behind and sent sprawling. The force of the hit was such that her head was ringing and she was stunned as she lolled on the ground in shock.  
Above her she could see the fourth vampire, the one she's merely knocked down earlier, standing above her with a huge branch from a tree in it's hands.

As it lifted the branch to deliver another strike, it suddenly stopped in mid wing and looked utterly shocked. Then it vanished into dust to reveal...

"Boy!" Buffy grinned wide as Xander stepped over and extended his hand to her.

"Come on, Buff." He said, "Let's go home."

When Giles arrived at Buffy's place on Campus he found Xander treating the Slayer for numerous minor scrapes and injuries while the boy himself was sitting crosslegged on the floor with his shirt off and his ribs taped heavily.

"Good lord, what happened?"

Xander looked up in relief, "You have no idea how glad I am to see you G-man."

"Well that's all very well, but it doesn't answer the question, now does it?"

Xander sighed. "Buffy's drunk."

Giles looked at the appearance of his Slayer, "Xander. I've been drunk before, this isn't the result. You'd better tell me about the spell."

Xander nodded, "The owner of the bar put some sort of... cave man spell on the beer. That's all I know, except that he says it'll wear off by tomorrow."

"Indeed?" Giles shook his head, "Of all the infernally stupid things to do..."

"We're going to have to round up Buffy's drinking buddies before they hurt someone." Xander said, then shrugged, "Or get hurt themselves."

"Yes, well... First thing's first." Giles frowned, "What happened?"

"Vampires attacking a sorority." Xander muttered, "Four of them."

"Ah." Giles nodded, "Are you alright?"

"I'll live."

"And Buffy?"

"She got her bell rung," Xander admitted, "But I think that the Cave Slayer version is tougher then Modern Slayer..."

"Well at least there's that much to be thankful for." Giles sighed.  
"Ok now, we have to put her to bed and go handle these others..."

Xander smirked, getting up. "I don't think that'll work..."

"Why ever not?"

Xander took a step away from Buffy, who instantly was at his side again.

"Ah." Giles muttered, "I won't presume to ask how you managed to get her glued to you... I probably don't want to know."

"Giles!" Xander snapped, his eyes flaring. "You'd better not...!"

"No," Giles held up a hand. "Not anymore at least. I apologize,  
Xander. I know you better then that, but then I never really thought you'd serve Buffy alcohol either."

Xander looked down, flushing guiltily. "Yeah... well..."

"Enough... we don't need to get into that now." Giles sighed, "Can she be trusted to come along with us?"

Xander nodded, "Yeah. I think so. She still knows how to handle vamps, and she doesn't seem to be out to attack humans..."

"Very well... let's go." Giles sighed. "But keep an eye on her."

"You got it G-man." Xander smirked, "Come on, Buffy... let's go."

"Go where?"

"For a walk..."

And one fire, several rescued people, and three locked up cavemen later... Xander thought as he reluctantly let go of Buffy when it seemed that she wasn't going to rip Parker limb from limb.

"Hey... uh..." Parker looked at her embarrassedly.

As well he might, Xander grimaced as he looked at the guy who was talking to an apparently rapt Buffy.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done what I did..."

Buffy grunted, then her club came down on Parker's skull. Hard.

Xander winced, then smiled.

"Go sleep now." Buffy turned her back on the groaning figure on the ground, looking at Xander. "Go home?"

"Go home." Xander nodded in agreement, looking back at Parker for a moment with a certain longing. Finally he shook his head, Buffy handled it.

Instead he put an arm around Buffy and another around Willow, and smiled. "Come on... I'll walk you two to your room."

"Boy smell nice."

Willow's eyes widened, "What did she say?"

Xander groaned, "Nothing. Alright? Nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing."

"Willow.. Just leave it alone. She's drunk out of her mind, and I smell like more booze."

Willow frowned, leaning over and sniffing. "Eww... you're not joking. What did you do? Take a bath in the stuff?"

"Its been a long night." Xander said, "I've been beaten up by cave men, vampires, and I'm pretty sure that Buffy took a crack at me once too... So pardon me, my dear Willow, if I don't sell like roses."

"Oh." Willow said, then nodded. "Well, yeah. Ok."

"So can we just get our little Cave Slayer here into bed so I can get some sleep?" Xander muttered. "Cause I have to get up early tomorrow and look for a new job."

"What? How come?"

"Most bosses frown on their employees pounding them into the ground."

"Don't look at me like that!" Willow grinned at him.

"Don't just laugh! Help me!" Xander groaned.

Willow just kept laughing as Xander tried to get Buffy to let him go, but the Slayer was rather attached to him.

Literally.

Her arms her hugging his right arm desperately, and her legs were wrapped around his right leg. Xander groaned, "Please Buff... I have to go sleep..."

"Sleep here!"

Xander groaned, Willow laughed, and Buffy just kept clinging on.

Chapter 12

The world wavered slowly back for Buffy Anne Summers, and brought a couple sledge hammers and a pick axe with it. The pinkish while light filtering through her closed eyelids was like twin ice picks hammered right into her brain and the Slayer groaned softly and crushed her eyelids shut with all her strength against the intrusion.

For all the good it did her.

She moaned again and rolled over, only to feel her arm thump against a hard, and warm, body. For a long moment, Buffy froze in place, her mind screaming against the pain as she tried to figure out who was in her bed. When her memories refused to divulge any critical data she finally shook off the paralysis and slowly opened her eyes.

An image coalesced slowly of a blurry figure laying his back and breathing evenly, causing the Slayer to shake slightly.

Ohmygod! Ohmygod! She screamed internally, blinking furiously to clear the crusted sleep from her eyes, Who is this guy? What did I do last night? OH MY GOD!

Slowly, hesitantly, she moved her arm toward her eyes, parying that she wouldn't wake this whoever it was until she was ready.

Ready. Yeah right. So not going to happen. She scoffed mentally as her hand reached her face. Slowly she started rubbing away the sleep,  
then blinking to clear her eyes, then rubbing it away again.

Finally the blur started to fade as her eyes focused again and she stared in horror at her bedmate.

Xander's first clue he was in trouble was the shriek of rage that was followed by a stinging slap across his face.

"HOW COULD YOU!?"

He bolted awake, somewhat at least, and fumbled for the stake and cross he kept by his bedside. Pain meant vamps. Or maybe his parents,  
but in either case the cross might actually help.

Nothing.

No cross, no stake.

Come to think of it... No end table.

What the hell!? Xander managed to think as he felt another stinging slap rock his head to the other side and the screaming continued.

"I trusted YOU! You were my FRIEND!"

That sounds bad. A part of Xander's brain whispered. To which another part quickly replied, No shit, sherlock.

He opened his eyes in time to see Buffy hauling back for another slap and the events of the previous night slammed back into his brain just as his survival instincts kicked in and he rolled fast to the right.

Buffy's slap landed hard against the pillow he'd been laying on, and Xander rolled clear off the bed and thumped soldily down to the floor on his back.

"Whuuufff!" He gasped in pain and shock as the air rushed form his body, taking any hope of speech with it.

"Come back here and take your punishment like a MAN!" Buffy snarled as she darted over the edge of the bed and glared down at him.

Xander's eyes were wide in shock as he saw her grasping hand reaching for his head and before his brain could manage even a mental retort he rolled back the other way and vanished under the bed.

"Come back here you little weasel!" Buffy screamed, anger permeating her mind as she saw red and lunged down to the floor and under the bed after him.

Shit! Xander managed to think as he fought to move while simultaneously gasping for breath. He kept rolling as the enraged Slayer chased him under the bed, and then struggled to his feet and jumped back up onto the bed as her hands clawed at his ankles.

"Damn you! Hold Still!"

Do I LOOK stupid to you!? He thought desperately as he got his first real draw of good air since the fall and tried to speak,  
"Buffy... just wait a..."

He lost his voice again when he saw Buffy's enraged, tear streaked face appear over the mattress. She was still glaring at him, but most of the rage was already seeping out of her eyes as the tears flowed harder. "Damn you Xander. How could you?"

"I... I.. I didn't." Xander protested weakly, even to his ears.

"Don't LIE to me!" Buffy screamed again, taking another swing at his face.

Xander ducked back, her hand just catching him in a graze that opened three parallel lines of welts across his cheek, one of them drawing blood as her hand passed and Buffy lost her balance from the force she'd thrown into the swing and crumpled to the bed.

Xander watched as she sobbed on the bed, a single drop of blood pooling from his cheek and tickling him despite the pain as it ran down his neck.

"Buffy... I..." He reached out, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" She screamed, knocking his hand away. "Damn you,  
Xander! Get out!"

"Buff..." Xander tried again.

"GET OUT!" She spun on him, eyes red and swollen, cheeks tracked with tears. "GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!"

Xander swallowed, falling back as he raised his hand. "Buffy... talk to Willow."

"GET OUT!"

"Talk to Willow!" Xander yelled as he retreated back to the door.

His eyes widened as he saw her pick up a lamp from the table and sling it his way. He ducked out the door as the lamp slammed into the wall with a huge crash.

As the door slammed behind him, Buffy Summers curled up on her bed and started to shake. The betrayal she felt was so keen, and came so fast and hard on heels of what happened with Parker Abrams that she never even noticed that both she, and Xander, had been fully clothed upon waking.

Outside the room, Xander stared at the door in shock for a long moment, totally stunned into inaction as his brain whirred in neutral as it tried to formulate a plan of action.

It was the sound of someone clearing their throat that caused him to turn around and meet the glares of the residents of the dorm. Xander's mouth worked a couple times, trying perhaps to protest his innocence,  
but finally he just gave it up and shoved his hands in his pocket as and walked out of the dorm under the universal scowls.

Willow Rosenberg slowed her pace as she stepped into her dorm,  
looking around as people stared at her. Their eyes stayed on her the entire way as she made her way through the halls until she stopped and looked around.

"What?" She asked, bewildered.

No one said anything, most of the people quickly finding other things to occupy their attention as Willow turned around in worry.  
"What!?"

Only one person, a girl that Willow barely knew, came up to her.

"You better check on your roommate... Something pretty bad happened." The girl said, "We could hear her crying from the halls."

Willow paled in shock and bolted for the room.

"Ok... calm down." Xander told himself, his stomach knotted up and his pulse racing as he walked, hunched over, toward his basement.  
"Willow will talk to her. She'll calm down. She..."

He stopped, closing his eyes as he remembered the agonizing look of betrayal on her face, and shook as he struggled to keep himself together. As the shudders subsided, he looked up and just ran.

He didn't stop until the basement door was shut and locked behind him, the phone thrown off the hook, and he was slumped in the bathroom. He stripped off quickly and got into the shower, not bothering to check the temperature as he through it on and slid down the wall.

Through it all he could see nothing but the betrayal in those green eyes.

Buffy Summers hadn't moved since she curled up, her shuddering gasps were the only sign that she was awake. The same thing kept reeling through her mind as she tried desperately to block it out.

She felt his hands on her, as they had been that night a couple weeks earlier. Felt the heated caress of his touch and the warmth of her own response, all of it backed by the cold and hot betrayal she now felt. Whenever she looked up her mind refused to show her Parker's face, and the white hot hatred that flared wasn't for him now.

It was for Xander.

She shook again as another wracking set of sobs rolled through her as the thoughts refused to die, refused to be banished, and she realized that she couldn't tell Parker Abrams and Xander Harris apart in her mind.

"How could you, Xander?" She sobbed out, feeling the pain of betrayal as she had felt it from Parker weeks earlier, only multiplied a thousand times over into a pain so bad that it caused everything else to pale beside it.

The door clicked open, but she didn't move.

"Buffy?"

She didn't answer."

The door shut.

"Buffy? What happened?"

"Go away." Buffy forced out, her voice thick with emotion.

Willow walked into the room, puzzled beyond all thought. "What happened? I know things got a little nuts last night... but..."

"Go away." She sobbed out this time, unable to keep the quaver from her voice.

"Buffy. Talk to me." Willow said as firmly as she could manage,  
sitting on the bed beside Buffy. "Where's Xander? Why isn't he here?"

Buffy spun around, glaring at Willow is such a sudden rage that Willow fell back, paling in fear.

"Don't talk to me about HIM!" Buffy snarled.

"But... but... what happened?" Willow was aghast. What could Xander have done? "Buffy... He protected you last night..."

"Protected me!?" Buffy snarled. "I woke up with him in bed with me,  
Willow!"

Willow's jaw dropped in dismayed shock as she realized suddenly, as if hearing a click in her mind, what happened. "Oh God... Buffy... You think? Xander? No! Buffy! No!"

Buffy stared at her, blinking the angry tears away. "What?"

"Buffy... Xander would never... Last night... God, Buffy..." Willow was stricken. "You wouldn't let him go... that's all! He tried to leave... but you wouldn't let him... The Cave Slayer..."

"Willow..." Buffy wiped her eyes, pulling her feet under her as she listened and tried to make sense of it. "Willow, you're not making any sense... what Cave Slayer? What are you talking about."

"Buffy... I was here last night. You didn't... I mean, Xander didn't... I mean well..." Willow stammered out, "You two just... didn't."

Buffy paled, her eyes glistening with moisture as they widened and she just managed a hoarse whisper, "What?"

Chapter 13

Oh God. Xander just kept repeating it to himself in his mind.  
It'll be ok. It'll be ok. Oh God. What the hell was I thinking? Oh God.

He was still in the shower, at least an hour later, though he'd shut the water off when his father screamed down at him about using up all the hot water. Now he was just sitting on the cheap plastic floor of the shower cabinet as he leaned against the equally cheep plastic that made up the walls.

"Of course she thought the worst, you idiot." Xander said bitterly,  
his lips twisting. "She was drunk last night, probably doesn't remember a god damn thing, and she woke up next to me... Shit, I'd think the worst too."

He rubbed his temples with his fingers and thumb, trying to reduce the pounding stress that was ballooning behind his eyes to little avail. Finally the cooling water brought on a case of the shivers and he had to get up and move out into his `apartment' where it was a little warmer.

God, Dad. You could have run the heat into the bathroom. He thought, grasping at any straw he could to distract himself for whatever short slices of time he could manage.

It didn't work, of course, so he just grabbed a towel from the floor by his bed and started drying himself off as he sat on the foot of his bed and just kept going over everything that happened in his mind. He was into the thirtieth cycle of events when a knock on the outside door brought him up.

Who the hell is that? Xander growled to himself, not caring to talk to anyone.

The knock came again, a little harder this time.

Oh for the love of... He sighed and wrapped the towel around his waist as he got up and moved to the door.

He threw the deadbolt open and twisted the knob, pulling the door back and growled, "Look, I'm really not in a good..."

He blinked, swallowed, and winced. "Hello, Miss Summers..."

"Hello Xander." Joyce Summers eyed him for a moment, noting the wet sheen of his skin, and was surprised to see that under all the normally baggy clothing he had good muscle definition and skin tone most people would kill for. Boy needs to learn how to dress to impress. "I stopped by to talk and your father directed me to this door."

Xander winced, Oh god. She met Dad.

Joyce barely noted the wince as she suddenly frowned, and exclaimed softly. "My God, Xander... What happened to your face?"

Xander's hand shot up to the sore strips that adorned his right cheek and he flinched, in memory rather then physical pain. "Nothing.  
It's fine."

Joyce reached out and turned his face to one side, frowning,  
"Xander... one of these is quite deep... it's bleeding..."

Still? Xander winced, moving back away from her hand. "I'll be fine, Miss Summers."

"Yes, you will." Joyce pushed her way into the house. "Just as soon as I check that scrap a little closer."

"Really... I'm fine... There's no need..."

"Sit." Joyce said firmly, pointing to the bed.

Xander sat, a perfect picture of abject misery, and waited while Joyce went into his bathroom and looked around. "Where do you keep your medical supplies?"

He sighed, "Under the sink. The green ammo tin."

"Ah. Got it." Joyce said a moment later as she came back out.

"Oh God." Buffy moaned. "Oh God."

Willow flinched. That had been all Buffy would say for the past several minutes, and Willow didn't think it boded well for whatever had happened. "Buffy...?"

"Oh God."

"Buffy..."

"Oh God."

"Buffy!" Willow finally snapped out.

Buffy looked up at her, the blonde's face stricken with emotion.

"What happened?" Willow asked slowly.

"I hit him." Buffy whispered.

Willow's eyes widened and she paled, sinking back down and away from Buffy. "What?"

"I hit him. Oh God..."

"Don't start that again!" Willow ordered, "What do you mean, you hit him?"

Buffy swallowed, "When I woke up I thought... I thought..."

"I know... I know, Buffy... we already established that... right?"  
Willow asked with a hint of a smile, trying to lighten the mood just a bit.

It failed miserably.

"Oh God, I hit him!" Buffy sank back, covering her face.

"Buffy..." Willow licked her lips, trying to think of how to say what she had to say. "How did you hit him?"

Buffy winced badly under her hands and Willow's heart fell. "Oh God,  
Buffy... Did you hurt him? Is Xander all right?"

Buffy looked up, pale and distraught. "I... I think so. I... I slapped him."

Willow breathed out in relief. Slap. No fist... Oh Please, God, no fist. "Tell me what happened..."

Buffy sniffed and gave a little hiccup as she tried to draw a breath through a sob. "I woke up... and... and he was beside me."

Willow nodded as Buffy took another breath and tried to compose herself.

"When I saw him I..." Buffy swallowed again, letting out another little hiccup of emotion as she forced down a sob. "I saw Parker first... I... I thought."

This time it was Willow's turn to wince. "Oh Buffy..."

"I was so disappointed for that second... I hated myself, Willow. I didn't know how I could have fallen for... for that... again." Buffy said, her voice bordering on hysteria it seemed. "And then... then I saw it was... Xander."

Willow grimaced, thinking about that moment of revelation for a second as Buffy continued.

"When I recognized him I... I just saw red." Buffy confessed. "I knew that I was drunk last night, but I never thought... I mean,  
Xander would never... I mean..."

Willow winced and nodded, her eyes eyes glistening as she felt her stomach knot and twist. "I understand... But Buffy... he didn't."

Buffy looked up, face white, eyes red, and nodded slowly.

"He really didn't. You know that now, right?" Willow asked softly.

Buffy nodded, but then her breath hitched as she once again saw Parker Abrams in her mind, Xander's face superimposed over him. She forced the image away, and nodded again. "I... I know."

"Good." Willow said, "Buffy, you have to talk to him."

Buffy nodded.

"Now."

She hesitated.

"Buffy..."

"I will... I will... But... Willow?"

"What?" The redhead asked gently.

"Please... could you... talk to him first?" Buffy pleaded.

Willow sighed, then nodded. "Alright."

She got up, brushing her clothes down as she walked over to the mirror. Willow was surprised to find that she needed to wash her face,  
otherwise the puffiness would be horrible visible. She shook her head and sighed. The situation had seemed so funny the night before.

"What happened, Xander?" Joyce asked sternly after she finished applying a creme to the deeper scrape.

"It's nothing, Miss Summers... I'm serious." Xander shifted uncomfortably. "Look... I'm going to get dressed..."

Joyce shrugged, "Go ahead."

Xander beat a retreat for the bathroom, and old shirt and a fairly clean pair of pants in tow. As soon as he had closed the door and started changing he spoke loud enough to be heard through the door.  
"Why did you come by?"

"I wanted to talk to you about Buffy." Joyce replied, walking around Xander's `room'. It was typical of what she remembered for a young bachelor. That is, it was a mess.

She heard Xander groan through the door and smiled. "Oh come now,  
it's not that painful a subject, is it?"

There was no answer through the door.

"Xander?" She asked, stepping closer to the door. "Is there something you aren't telling me?"

"No!"

Too quick. She smiled. I wonder what happened?

"Alright." Joyce said slowly, her lips twisting as she pondered the question. "Have you and Buffy talked about the other night?"

"Ummm Not as such, no."

Not as such? Joyce shook her head. "You need to speak to her about it, Xander. Otherwise you'll never get anything resolved... not one way, or the other."

"Look... Miss Summers... I just don't know what you're expecting here." Xander said as he opened the door and stepped back out into the room. "Buffy and I are friends. I really can't see that changing any time soon."

Not with that attitude. Joyce sighed. She was starting to understand what she was really up again. The situation wasn't nearly as one sided as she thought. They were both idiots. "Xander... all I'm asking is that you honestly ask yourself if you want things to change or not."

Xander frowned, but Joyce cut him off before he said anything.

"Because if you do want to change your relationship with Buffy, you need to take the initiative." Joyce continued, "And you need to start learning to judge when a girl is still trying to make up *her* mind."

Xander sighed, "Look... Miss Summers... I'll think it over, ok? But seriously... Buffy and I are friends."

Joyce nodded, "Alright. You do that... but Xander?"

"What?" Xander looked up as Joyce looked back at him from the door.

"I never said that you had to stop being friends." She said, "I just think that maybe you may want something more too."

Chapter 14

Xander roughed his hair with the towel as he paced the basement apartment, "Oh damnit... great, just great. Buffy thinks I basically raped her, and her mom is trying fix us up..."

He laughed bitterly, "How's that for irony?"

Xander stopped pacing and collapsed onto his bed, laying flat out and moaned. "God my life sucks."

As if on cue, his phone rang and Xander turned to look at it with a degree of horror he usually reserved for Giles' carrying a load of think books.

He swallowed once, then slowly reached out and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Xander? Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. Willow. Thank God. "I'm fine,  
Will... I'm fine. Buffy?"

He could hear Willow sigh on the other side and speak to the side.  
He couldn't make out all the words but he thought she said `Xander's fine'.

I hope that means that Buffy actually cares. He thought darkly,  
wondering just where he stood.

"Can you come over?" Willow asked next.

Xander took a breath, "Willow... are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I explained things to Buffy. Xander, are you sure you're ok? Buffy's worried."

Xander closed his eyes and mentally began thanking god. "I'm fine.  
Tell her I'm fine."

"And you're coming over?"

Xander nodded, "Yeah... Yeah. I'll be right over."

"Good." Willow said, then he could hear her voice warm a little more. "It'll be ok, Xan."

"Thanks, Wills. Just..." Xander hesitated, looking for words he couldn't imagine. "Just... thanks."

"Hey... what are best buds for?"

Joyce Summers unlocked the door to her gallery, a thoughtful expression on her face as she flipped the sign to `open' and let the door shut behind her. Most of her inventory was done and she could afford to think for a while, at least until the customers began to trickle in.

The quandary in which she found herself seemed exceedingly convoluted.

Both Buffy and Xander have their own problems preventing them from taking the steps that they... that I *think* they both want to take... She sighed, flicking on the coffee machine and taking a seat on the stool behind the counter.

Buffy has the whole Super Hero problem going... she doesn't feel that she should be leaning on the people she's supposed to protect...  
Joyce tilted her head from side to side, reluctantly deciding that she could understand the point of view. Superman saved Lois Lane, not vice versa. Well, not in the old comics anyway.

She snorted softly at the image and shook the image out of her mind.

And Xander... well Xander... Joyce's expression turned to a bemused expression. Poor, confused, lost, little Xander...

Xander was so determined that no meant no that he was taking one single `lets be friends' determine his relationship with Buffy for the rest of eternity.

Cute. Joyce had to admit to herself. Adorable really... But probably the single *stupidest* thing I've ever seen.

She sighed, noting that her coffee maker was percolating and moved over to the machine. She shoved a mug under it until it was full, then slid the tern back under it. As she slowly inhaled the coffee, Joyce admitted to herself that the situation was more complicated then even what she'd already laid out.

Buffy's got something else there too... she's dated other boys who weren't super powered... Joyce shook her head, taking her seat again.  
So... maybe it's something about Xander?

Idly, Joyce pulled out a sheet of paper and started to jot down some names.

A list of Buffy's boyfriends, from as far back as LA, culminating in Mr Parker Abrams. Joyce scowled at the list and tried to remember each of them as best she could.

Now... what do these boys have in common?

Xander walked back into the dorm a short while later, and immediately felt the weight of the stares and glares. Whispers echoed around him, and he heard several names being bandied about, the least of which was `townie'. He kept movie though, and finally made it to the room, hunched over like a beaten dog, and knocked.

"Come in..."

He swallowed and hesitantly opened the door, grimacing as he looked inside. "Will?"

"She's out."

"Buffy..." Xander hesitated at the threshold, uncertain again.

"Please... Xander... come in."

He nodded and stepped in, letting the door swing shut behind him.  
"Look, Buffy... I'm s..."

"Xander." Buffy spoke up, holding up a hand as she got off the bed.  
"Don't."

"But I..."

Buffy smiled at him, her eyes sad but mostly recovered from the redness of earlier tears. "Xander... You have nothing to apologize for. Willow told me what happened last night."

"It was my fault." Xander said finally.

"How?" Buffy asked, shaking her head. "Xander... I wouldn't let you leave. Willow told me."

"I served you the beer."

There was a long silence until Buffy finally stepped up to Xander and cupped his cheek. "Xander, I made you. You know that as well as I do."

Xander started to speak, but Buffy stopped him again.

"It's not you that has to apologize..." She paused, taking a breath as she looked at him seriously. "I'm sorry. I woke up and I saw you there... and for a minute I thought you were Parker..."

Xander flinched as though she'd struck him.

Buffy winced as well, "I don't think I can apologize enough for that..."

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep going. "When I saw it was you and not Parker, I... well I jumped to conclusions."

"I understand th..." Xander started, but she cut him off again.

"Please... Xander... Please... let me finish." She said, turning away from him. "I don't think you do really... not really... When I saw you there, and recognized who you were... I didn't feel anything for a long moment. Then it wasn't you beside me, it was Parker again... and I got so mad..."

Buffy's arms trembled as she remembered the memory and Xander started forward, but she skirted quickly away from him. He fell back,  
hurt.

She looked up, her face flashing guiltily. "I'm sorry... I just... I..."

She hung her head, "Oh God, Xander... I just keep seeing Parker again."

Xander flinched and took a step away from her.

"It's not your fault Xander... Please... Don't go." She said painfully. "I just need to... to work through this."

Xander nodded, holding his place.

Buffy sighed and looked down, "God... why is this so damn hard? You didn't DO anything. You don't deserve this."

"Buffy... I... Lord knows I don't want to be compared to Parker..."  
Xander forced a quirked grin, trying to hide the pain he was feeling.  
"But if you need time..."

"Don't DO that!" Buffy snapped suddenly. "It's not your fault dammit! Don't act like it is."

Xander flinched back, but didn't know what to say, so he just let his arms drop to his side.

Buffy sighed, "I'm sorry Xander... God, I'm going to be saying that a lot today, aren't I?"

Her laughter was bitter and cut through Xander, but he kept quiet.  
For once, it didn't seem that humor was going to help.

"When I thought it was Parker there beside me..." Buffy's face set as she determined to get the rest of what she wanted to say out and into the open. "I felt... dirty. Worse then I felt when he... used me before. I felt stupid. I felt cheap. I felt like a..."

"Buffy..." Xander spoke quickly, cutting her off. "Don't... please don't."

She nodded, her head slowly bobbing until she looked up and smiled at him tentatively, gratefully. "But when I saw it was you... God,  
Xander... I felt worse."

Xander flinched back as if struck, feeling the pain of the words strike him right in the sternum like a hammerblow. "I see."

Buffy, for her part, winced as well. She looked up sharply, "God Xander... not like that... well... not really. I... Xander I felt betrayed. Not because waking up beside you would be so bad... but because *this* time, waking up beside you meant that you'd... you'd...  
well... you know."

Xander nodded miserably. "Yeah. I get it Buff."

Buffy got up and walked across to him, "No. I don't think you do."

She reached out suddenly and pulled him into a hug, forcing him to bend over for her, his face burying itself in her hair. Then she kept talking into his ear as she felt him hug her back. "I couldn't stand it if you did something like that Xander... I couldn't stand having you taken away from me like that. The Xander Harris I know would never have done that... and when I thought you had, I felt like you'd died... or I had... or something."

Xander didn't know what to say, so he just stayed there and held her as she held him.

Most of them are normal boys. She sighed, looking over the names.

What was this one? Football player? Joyce frowned. Something like that. Don't remember...

It was the last two names on the list that, of course, brought a frown to her face.

Angel. Parker Abrams.

Neither were exactly what she would consider a prize catch, but that was always an easy call to make in retrospect. Neither of them appeared to have anything in common with the earlier boys either.  
Joyce sighed, closing the notepad. Maybe there was nothing in common there.

It does happen. Joyce frowned, Not often... but it does happen.

She shook her head, knowing that usually there was a pattern. Like everything else in life.

A customer's entrance interrupted her line of thought, and Joyce Summers shifted back into her storeowner mode as she smiled at the woman, "Hello... may I help you?"

Chapter 15

Joyce closed up the shop for the day, still puzzling over the list of names she had written across her mental chalkboard. There didn't seem to be much of a pattern, if any at all, to Buffy's previous beaus. Which probably meant that she was just missing something utterly obvious, of course.

She checked her watch briefly, eyeing the time with a touch of worry. Dawn would have been home for twenty minutes already.

She sighed and quickly got into the car and headed for home.

Xander kicked at a piece of asphalt that had been torn up by normal wear and tear on the road, sighing to himself as he considered the events of the day since morning.

One... Buffy slaps me until I wake up... which could have been worse, He admitted to himself. She could have pummeled me into a coma or something...

A moment later he rejected the though out of hand, berating himself for even thinking it. Buff wouldn't do that. She's the Slayer, not a psycho... and I can't really blame her for being freaked out anyway.  
Hell *I'm* freaked out. She thought I was Parker...

He shivered, his thoughts slowly starting another downward spiral.  
He'd been doing that constantly since Buffy had dropped that bomb on him, and frankly he didn't see the bottom in sight yet, so he was resigned for another long fall.

Intellectually, he understood why she'd made that mistake, and he even understood that it had absolutely nothing to do with him.  
Afterall, right now, and for the past little while, she had Parker on the brain. He was a source of constant pain for the Slayer, in one way or another, and the thought of waking up next to that sleaze after getting drunk was probably about as bad as it got for Buffy right now.

On a gut level, though, it was a different story. Especially since that was the level that Buffy and he had been reacting on all day it seemed. He'd been compared to the sleazebag even after she knew it was him, again understandably in his opinion, and that was doing his sense of self esteem, such as it was, no end of crap.

Parker was almost the epitome of what Xander didn't want to be. A sexual predator. Someone who didn't even know the meaning of the word `friend', or `equal', or probably `harassment'. The guy was a sleaze,  
plain a simple. And it simply boggled his mind that Buffy had fallen for it in the first place.

Hell. What is it with the bad boys anyway? He grumbled, clawing at anything he could find to keep from sinking even lower into a depression. Angel, Parker... even that dumb ass Ford wacko. Why does she fall for the mental cases anyway?

A question he'd dearly have liked answered, but one that Xander Harris couldn't even begin to fathom. He kicked at another rock as he trudged, hands in pockets, down the road.

He didn't notice the car slow down behind him.

Joyce spotted Xander along the side of the road and slowed down, not really thinking about it. She just watched him walk for a while,  
thinking about that damn list and trying to decide what the names on it had in common, other then the fact that they *weren't* Xander Harris.

he looks depressed. She frowned, thoughts shifting tracks. I wonder why?

She followed along behind him for a while until an idea struck her.  
It could work.

And if it doesn't... well at least I get some first hand information, and a night out. She grinned, determining to give it a shot. She pressed down on the gas and pulled up beside Xander, then came to a stop.

Xander noticed the car as it rolled to a stop beside him and recognized it in the next instant. He groaned. Oh God. I do NOT need this right now.

"Xander..." Joyce leaned over, speaking to him through the window as it powered down.

"Yeah, Miss S?" He managed to say with a steady voice, as opposed to his first instinct which was `run away!'.

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor..."

He closed his eyes, "What is it?"

"I need a babysitter for Dawn for tonight... could you help me out?"

Babysit Dawnie... I can do that. He nodded, relieved. "Yeah, sure.  
No prob."

"Great." She smiled, "Thanks... oh, Xander?"

"Yeah?"

"You think some more about it?"

Xander groaned, thumping his head against the door frame of the car.

Willow let herself back into the room she shared with Buffy after a long day with Oz and breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't see any blood or such lying around the room.

Buffy looked ok as well, sitting against the head board of her bed with her knees curled up against her chest. The blonde Slayer had a pensive look on her face, tinged with sadness.

"Buffy...?"

"Hey Will." Buffy said softly.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. I'll... I'll be good. Not just now, but soon."

"Xander...?" Willow asked timidly.

"He's... Xander." Buffy said with a hint of a smile. "He uh...  
apologized."

Willow's jaw dropped, then she shook her head. Of course he apologized. But... "Buffy... you didn't...?"

"Blame him? No. I even told him to stop saying he was sorry." Buffy replied, shaking her head. "I actually got angry with him again, you know? Here I was trying to apologize for slapping him and he makes it worse by beating me to the punch..."

Willow giggled a bit, taking a seat on Buffy's bed. "That's our Xander."

"Yeah." Buffy said soberly. "Yeah... that's our Xander. I just realized that he does that a lot."

"What?"

"Take the blame for stuff he didn't do... or didn't do wrong... I don't know..." Buffy shook her head, "He's just... it's like he just assumes that he's to blame."

"Yeah..." Willow said slowly. "Yeah. I guess..."

"You know the worst thing?"

"What?" There was a worse thing?

"Until today... I kinda assumed the same thing." Buffy admitted guiltily. "I don't know why... maybe it's because he seems to think so... I don't know."

"Buffy..." Willow started, but Buffy cut her off.

"I just need to think for a bit, ok Will?" She said suddenly, out of the blue. "I'm going to go for a walk or something."

"O... ok." Willow nodded.

Buffy got up and began to mechanically get dressed, having spent the entire day in the same clothes she'd worn the night before, and was on her way to the door when the phone rang.

Willow got it, "Hello? Oh... Hey Miss Summers... Yeah, Buffy's here..."

Buffy turned around as Willow held out the phone. "It's for you."

"I guessed that much," She smiled slightly, holding down a laugh for the first time of the day. She took the phone, "Mom?"

Willow watched as Buffy listened and nodded, getting in the occasional word edgewise.

"Yeah, sure, I can come by now. Thanks for letting me know."

Willow frowned, curious as Buffy hung up the phone. "What's that about?"

"Mom's going out later, but she's baking us some goodies for tonight and tomorrow." Buffy grinned, anticipating some home cooked food. "She wants me to pick it up beore she goes out, and drop off any clothes I need done so I don't barge in on her while she's sleeping tomorrow morning."

"Cool." Willow grinned.

Chapter 16

"Hey Mom! I'm home!" Buffy called out as she slipped into the house.

She kicked off her shoes and started into the living room, stopping in surprise when she spotted Xander on the couch. "Umm... Hi."

"Hey, Buff..." Xander shifted uncomfortably. "How are you?"

"In the couple hours since you left?" She forced a smile. "I'm good."

"Good... good..."

"So... what are you doing here?" She ventured after another uncomfortable silence.

Xander shifted again, then shrugged. "Your mom asked me to babysit Dawn for her."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

They nodded, both shifting uncomfortably.

"So... uh..." Xander shrugged, "How about you?"

"Me? Oh... Well, I'm just dropping off some laundry." Buffy half smiled, a little embarrassed. "And Mom called me, saying that she'd have some goodies baked for me if I dropped off the stuff tonight."

Xander quickly masked a grimace, forcing a cheerful grin. "Ah. Well,  
lucky for me then... extra Buffy time."

She smiled weakly, rolling her eyes a bit, but nodded gratefully at the attempt to shift the mood. "Yeah. Well, I'm not totally against a little extra time with my Xander shaped friend, either you know..."

Ouch. Joyce winced. Xander shaped friend? No wonder he's convinced that he doesn't have a shot. That's just so wrong.

She listened for a few more minutes from the kitchen, then gathered up a tray of brownies and pushed open the door. "Hello there, anyone want some brownies?"

Both of the teens in the room practically melted with relief and rushed her and the tray.

"Ummm... good..." Xander muttered, polishing off the first brownie and licking at his finger. "You make the besht bwonies, Miss Summersh..."

Buffy nodded, her mouth a little to full to even attempt the mumbled words that Xander managed.

Joyce just smiled and shook her head as she deposited the tray on the coffee table and straightened up. "So, how have you two been?"

Xander shot her a dark look, which she promptly ignored, but Buffy missed the exchange completely.

"Fine!" Buffy said, far too quickly. "We've been fine. Right Xander?"

"Uhh? Oh, uh, yeah. Fine. That's us." He replied, recovering quickly from his distraction.

Oh? Now there's a story here... Joyce eyed the two of them for a long moment, frowning. But something tells me that neither of them are going to give it up. I wonder what happened?

"Well, that's good." She said out loud, "And how's school going, Buffy?"

"It's ok." Buffy replied, a little more comfortable though barely less evasive.

THAT was something Joyce recognized and knew how to handle. "Oh? And your classes?"

"They're ok too."

"All of them?" She pressed, distracted from her foray into matchmaking by her daughters scholastic responsibilities.

"Mostly all." Buffy grabbed for another brownie, delaying the inevitable by stuffing it in her mouth sideways.

Joyce was patient, she could wait for Buffy to finish chewing and reach for the pitcher of milk. Once she brownie had been washed away,  
she spotted her opening and took it. "Which ones aren't?"

Buffy scowled lightly, sighing. "I'm having some troubles in Psychology. Nothing big, mom, I swear."

"If you say so." Joyce smiled slightly, deciding to leave it alone for the moment, but making a note to return to it later. "Anyway... as much as I'd love to catch up, I have to get changed."

Xander and Buffy watched as Joyce got up and headed up the stairs.  
Then they shifted and stared at each other across the length of the couch for a long moment.

"So..." Xander said first, mind screaming to find something,  
ANYTHING, so say.

"So..." Buffy repeated stupidly, in her opinion.

"Yeah." Xander said, eyes darting around. Where's Dawn? God I wish Dawn where here... she'd at least give us something to pretend to listen to.

"Right..." Buffy agreed to nothing, biting at her lip nervously.

"Mom!" Dawn Summers called out plaintively. "How much longer do I have to stay here?"

"Until you learn your lesson, young lady." Joyce replied quickly.

"I'll DO the dishes! Come on, Mom! Let me do the dishes... PLEASE?"

Joyce repressed a smile. How often do you hear that?

Still she kept a stern face, "You can stay right where you are until I leave at least. Then I'm sure you'll be able to weasel a free pass out of Xander."

"Xander's babysitting?" Dawn perked up, smiling.

"Yes he is, young lady." Joyce returned, "And you had better listen to him."

"I will Mom." She promised.

"And you'd better have those dishes done by the time I get back too."

Dawn sighed. "I will Mom."

Joyce left the hall and went into her room, smiling at herself.  
Luckily I can always count on my daughters to do SOMETHING worth getting sent to their room about, or I'd never have gotten Xander and Buffy alone.

"This is *stupid*, Xander." Buffy said finally. "Nothing happened.  
We shouldn't be dancing around each other like this."

Xander sighed, a little in relief at Buffy saying that but mostly just in relief that the tension had been broken by something. He quickly nodded in agreement, "Yeah. You're right Buff. Look, we settled this already, but I want to do it again... I'm sorry for..."

"Xander!" Buffy snapped, "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything!"

"Could I finish please?" He asked mildly.

Buffy frowned, but nodded.

"I AM sorry for what happened. Whether it was my fault or not, you woke up in a bad situation that my presence made a lot worse." Xander said. "And I know that you don't think it was my fault, but I just WANT to say I'm sorry ok?"

"Ok." She mumbled unhappily. "But I'm the one who's apologizing here, got that?"

Xander chuckled slightly, holding up his hands. "I got it."

"Damn right." She said firmly. "I was the one who made you stay. I WAS the one who jumped to conclusions. And it was me who put those scratches on your face."

Xander looked at her sourly, a hand running along his face. "Yeah. I remember."

"But let's not dwell on the past, right?" Buffy said quickly,  
flashing him a smile.

Xander laughed, easily for the first time that day. "Right."

"Good." Buffy shifted over closer and gave him a quick hug. "I'd miss you if we didn't."

"No worries about that, Buff." Xander said seriously. "I'm going nowhere."

"Thanks." She said warmly.

"Unfortunately," Xander continued, sighing. "That also pretty much covers my life."

"It can't be that bad..." Buffy said softly.

"Well, after beating the crap out of my last boss, I doubt I'll get a great reference from him." Xander replied wryly.

"Beating the...?" Buffy questioned. "You beat up your boss at the bar?"

Xander nodded.

Buffy blinked, then her lips quirked. "For me?"

"I guess..."

"That's be romantic if it weren't illegal." Buffy laughed softly.

Xander opened his mouth to say something, then closed it with a click as he thought about what she'd said. He tried to think of something to say, but instead just met Buffy's suddenly silent gaze.  
Her green eyes caught him again and he cursed himself for a fool as he started to lean forward inexorably.

Joyce put on the finishing touches to her outfit and checked herself out in the mirror.

Not bad, even if I do say so myself. She smirked, brushing out a wrinkle in the silk blouse, then adjusting her bra slightly.  
Especially for an old lady with two kids.

She smoothed out the line of her skirt and then opened her door.

"Mom?"

Joyce smiled at the soft voice, "Not yet."

The voice fell silent and she made her way to the top of the stairs,  
pausing to look surreptitiously down.

YES! She crowed to herself as she saw how close Buffy and Xander were, and noted with gleeful anticipation how they were moving together.

Oh god... Oh god. He's going to kiss me. Buffy tried to blink but couldn't as her eyes were locked solidly into Xander's. She was having a hard time breathing, of a sudden, and could feel the heat of his breath as his face drew closer.

Xander, for his part, wasn't thinking of a single thing until he came within an inch of Buffy's lips. Then, the world crashed down around him as he realized what he was doing. Oh FUCK. I... I... I...

His motion toward her checked itself, and Xander's eyes suddenly darted around in near panic.

The spell broken, Buffy drew back quickly, and got up off the couch.

"I... I have to go." She said quickly. "Tell Mom that I said bye."

"I... uh... yeah." Xander said, stunned and near miserable from both panic and fear. "Will do."

"Thanks... uh... see you, Xan." Buffy said, and then was gone.

Joyce Summers felt an almost irresistible urge to bang her head against the wall.

He's either a cretin, or an emotional basketcase. She told herself firmly. I dearly hope it's the second, because while being a basketcase isn't pleasant, being a cretin is pretty much incurable.

Chapter 17

Buffy's mind was simply spinning as she moved softly through the Sunnydale streets.

Xander almost kissed me. She blinked, expression stunned. My god... he almost...

*I* almost kissed Xander. Her eyes opened wide in shock. What was I THINKING?

I can't kiss Xander. It's just... not natural! He's... Xander! He's just not... I mean... I... She went around and around in her mind,  
never coming to a satisfactory set of reasons, but never really needing any either.

She couldn't get involved with Xander.

It simply wasn't the way things were supposed to happen.

He was XANDER for crying out loud.

Xander buried his head in his hands, not noticing Joyce at the top of the stairs.

Oh God. He though, mostly just repeating those same two words over and over again as he groaned into his palms. Oh God. What the FUCK is wrong with me?

I almost kissed Buffy... What am I totally insane? I can't get involved with this! Buffy doesn't want me, she already said so,  
damnit! He closed his eyes, fingers rubbing his nose so hard it was almost painful. No means no. Right? And she's told you no on so many levels it's getting freaking pathetic!

He sighed, staring at the floor after a moment, and just tried not to hit anything.

Joyce stood at the top of the stairs for a long moment and sighed softly to herself.

Maybe I should cut out while I still can. This is a whole different problem then I thought it was, and I still don't know if Buffy *wants*  
Xander.

She looked at Xander, who was sitting like his best friend had just died, and she winced in a moment of sympathy for him before pushing it aside. There was little point in wasting sympathy on him, not when he'd had the prefect opportunity and blown it like he had.

Of course, things made a lot more sense to her now. She understood why Buffy and Xander had never got together, and why Buffy had been attracted to Parker and Angel, among others.

Xander was a total screwup.

Joyce sighed. No, that's not fair. He just *thinks* he's a total screwup. Which is worse, actually.

Buffy's meandering had brought her to the graveyard, her confusion turning into an itch to break something. Anything, really, but she'd prefer a vamp or two.

"Well well, what have we here?"

Right on cue. The Slayer thought, eyes gleaming with transformed tension as four vampires approached from the darkness. "Hello boys.  
Looking for a snack?"

She shed her jacket, cricking her neck around as she suddenly smiled ferally at the vampires. "I bet I've got what you need. Come and get it."

Xander jumped as he heard a footstep behind him and turned to see Joyce coming down the stairs. He quickly cleared his expression,  
slipping on the goofy mask that served him so well in the past and mocked a wolf whistle.

"Damn Miss Summers... You look great."

Joyce smiled gently at him, nodding her thanks.

He wasn't kidding either, no matter how much his head was screwed up at the moment. She looked like a million bucks in a silk blouse and a long skirt that hugged her form down halfway to past her knees. Her makeup was understated, elegant, but striking as well, and her lips glistened as she smiled.

"Thank you Xander." She said softly, her voice pensive. "Dawn is upstairs... where's Buffy?"

"She uh... had to go."

Joyce nodded, not bothering to point out that Buffy had left the food that was still in it's wrapping. She just let the comment pass and turned to Xander. "I'll be gone until midnight, Xander... are you going to be ok?"

"I'll be fine." Xander flashed her his crooked smile, "You know me."

"Yes, I do." She said, forcing a smile as she felt a touch of exasperation. Now. "Dawn's bed time is no later then eleven. I don't care if it is Friday."

"Eleven. Right." Xander nodded, throwing a mock salute. "You've got it, Maam."

Joyce smiled a little, this time it wasn't forced. She's not going to bed until I turn in the driveway.

"Well, that's it then... the emergency numbers are by the phone, but you know that..." Joyce went on a moment before realizing that she was starting to ramble. God I haven't done that in years. "So I'm going to head out."

Xander nodded, not noticing the flicker of emotions on the older woman's face. "Alright, I'll look after everything. Just have a good time."

Her smile was grateful this time, and still natural. "Thank you Xander."

Xander walked her to the door, opening it with a flourish and a mock bow. "My Lady."

Joyce had to suppress a slight laugh as she walked out, also suppressing an urge to curtsey in response to his bow. "I'll see you later, Xander."

"I look forward to it." Xander forced a smile as he closed the door behind her, then let out a long sigh and leaned back against the door,  
eyes closed in relief as his mask dropped and he slumped tiredly down the door.

"Xander?"

His eyes snapped back open again, his mask slapping back into place as he looked up the stairs.

Dawn was standing there, peeking down. "Is Mom gone yet?"

Joyce slipped behind the wheel of the car, shaking her head.

That boy needs help. She concluded as the car purred to life and she backed out into the road.

The night out had been something of a spur of the moment thing, but Joyce suddenly didn't feel like going with the planned outing. She didn't feel like doing much of anything actually, but needed to get out more then ever.

What have I gotten myself into anyway? She sighed, shaking her head as she drove a little aimlessly.

The whole situation was spiraling out of her control, not that it had been in control to begin with. That had been the whole point,  
after all. If things had been under control, she wouldn't have had to think about this whole damned thing.

Buffy's behavior was explained now, that much Joyce was satisfied with. It had only taken a few seconds of observing the two of them together to understand why Buffy acted the way she did.

Like any woman on the planet, like Joyce herself, Buffy liked self confident men.

No shock there.

Joyce herself had fallen for Hank because the man ruled his world with a powerful air of sheer competence that forced everyone around him to bend to his will. He had, in fact, attacked life with everything he had and a good deal that he borrowed from his own future. His lifestyle was powerfully attractive, but Joyce had learned later that his lifestyle came with a cost.

His energy expenditure cost him sorely, it would probably be what killed the man, Joyce knew. She'd spent most of their marriage giving him an outlet from that nonstop lifestyle, both in the bedroom and in and around the home. She had run the household, letting him run the boardroom.

Which wasn't to say that it had been all bad, Joyce smiled to herself. His lifestyle gave him a lot of energy for other things as well, which she'd appreciated all through their early relationship.

Buffy had always had a lot in common with her father, Joyce knew.  
She had the energy that came from Hank Summers, even before the whole Slayer business. And, like her father, it was most likely to be her lifestyle that killed her.

Of course, for different reasons.

At least Hank hadn't had to worry about the chairman of the board trying to rip his throat out. Well, literally at least.

Xander, however, was likely to live to be a hundred. Barring back luck or insane heroics, of course. He took life only as seriously as he had to, and while he was down now, Joyce didn't think that would last long. He would do well when he found his place, because he knew how to work, knew how to play, and would impress the right people.

His biggest problem, as Joyce saw things, was that he didn't believe in himself.

And he broadcast that insecurity for anyone and everyone to see.

And no one, not Buffy, not a potential boss, not anyone was likely to seriously look past that impression.

After all, if you met someone who didn't believe in themself... why should you take a chance on them?

Buffy slammed her fist out, catching the vampire across the jaw with the ridge of her knuckles in a heavy backhand that send it flying.

Her hair was messed up, she was breathing heavily, and the fight wasn't helping her anxiety in the slightest.

Damn it! She groused, kicking another vampire hard, sending him sprawling over a gravestone. Why does this bother me so much!?

Two more vampires rushed her, catching her between them and driving the slayer back. The trio toppled to the ground, Buffy rolling with the weight and kicking them off over her head. The vamps flew into a pair of matching headstones, a sickening crack filling the air as she rolled to her feet and got up.

Buffy pulled her stake from her belt as her emotions raged, turning as a sound came from behind her.

All she saw was a blur of motion and then a crushing pain in her cheek turned her world red as she was thrown off her feet and smashed into a gravestone.

"Ok, what next?" Xander smiled, genuinely enjoying himself finally as he packed up the board game and looked over at Dawn. "Movies or snacks?"

"Both of course." Dawn grinned at him.

"Ah, a woman after my own heart." He grinned, nodding to the kitchen. "Alright, I'll pop the popcorn, you get the soda and glasses.  
Deal?"

"Deal!"

God, why couldn't it be this simple? Xander asked himself as Dawn happily ran ahead of him into the kitchen. Just have fun. When did my life go all angsty like some hack writer was at the helm?

No one answered him of course, so Xander dutifully followed the youngest Summers into the kitchen and fetched the microwave popcorn from the cupboard as Dawn got the soda out of the fridge.

Preparing the snacks was a joke, of course, but it ate up a few minutes while Xander thought more then he normally would. Or normally wanted to for that matter.

God I'm such a freaking loser. He sighed, watching the numbers count down as Dawn poured the drinks. It's not bad enough that Buffy made herself clear in the first place, oh no... I've got to go and make her hammer the point home.

Of course Xander, being Xander, couldn't let it go at that without a sarcastic part of his mind snapping back at him. Well duh. What did you expect? It's not like I've become a better catch over the past few years. Unemployed, out of school, and hell she even KNOWS that I cheated on my last girlfriend. Face it Xan, you're lucky she didn't break your neck for getting that close.

He sighed, a black wave of melancholy depression sweeping over him until the nuker pinged it's completion.

He forced his face back to it's normal goofy grin and plucked the steaming bag out. "Corn's done!"

"Cool. Let's go put on the movie!"

Chapter 18

Xander looked around tiredly as he surveyed the quiet house.

Dawn had fallen asleep on the couch, leaving Xander to carry her up to her room, which he had done. After that, though, he had nothing but time to think about how badly he'd screwed things up.

Again.

He had a habit of fouling up, but it was literally amazing how often he managed to do that. And when it came to his love life, what little there was of it, he was truly a Maestro of the fuck-up.

Now that Buffy probably never wants to see me again, and Joyce is dead set on mucking around in the disaster zone that is my love life,  
what the hell am I going to do!?

Lost in his misery, Xander didn't notice the lights turn into the driveway, nor hear the car motor as it shut off.

Joyce Summers was in a serious quandry.

She'd started out on what seemed to be a good idea, even a brilliant one.

Xander Harris was what practically any mother would like to see her daughter become involved with. He was polite, strong when it matter,  
gentle during other times. He knew how to love, he would protect those he cared for to the death without hesitation. He wasn't violent by nature, but had the instinct of a father despite his young age.

And yet, like every person on the face of the Earth, he wasn't perfect.

He didn't trust himself. He didn't have a personality that let him take charge unless there was no other choice. He had no confidence in his instincts, save for the ones that led him to protect those he loved.

Put bluntly, he was the LAST person any teenage girl was going to look to for a romantic fling.

Which made her plan pretty much a bust.

There was no way she could convince Buffy that falling for Xander was a good idea, not if Xander refused to grow a spine, or at least make use of the one he did have.

Joyce sighed, turning the car engine off and pulling the keys from the ignition.

Things were a total loss, that was a fact. So she may as well let Xander off the hook.

Pity.

She got out of the car and smiled slightly, her expression feeling sad despite the effort. Well, the house is still standing... so at least he can handle Dawn.

She walked up the path to the front door and let herself quietly in.

Xander glanced up when the door opened and smiled at Joyce. "Hey."

"Hello, Xander." Joyce smiled softly back.

Xander noticed something in her eyes, but before he could ask Joyce went on.

"How did Dawn behave?"

"Like a perfect little..." Xander saw Joyce's eyes twinkle and amended his statment, "Summers girl."

Joyce nodded, "That bad, huh?"

Xander grinned, but didn't comment.

Joyce lost her smile a little while later, then sighed as she looked away from Xander.

"Uh oh." Xander said, "What happened?"

"Nothing Xander," She told him, then nodded to the kitchen. "Come into the kitchen, I think we should talk."

Definitely not good. Xander gulped. What did I do now?

But he followed her into the kitchen and watched as Joyce Summers began to nervously putter about the kitchen, preparing some coffee.

"Would you like a cup?" She asked as the percolator began to operate.

Xander shook his head.

"I shouldn't have any either... I'll be up all night now." Joyce sighed, but she made herself a cup of coffee and then sat down across from Xander.

Xander looked across at the table and sighed himself. "Alright, Miss Summers... what is it?"

Joyce took a breath, "Xander... I know that I've been putting a lot of pressure on you lately..."

Xander blinked.

"Uh..."

"You don't have to say anything," Joyce held up her hands. "I owe you an apology, Xander. I'm sorry for pushing you like that. I was..."

She was cut off by a noise at the window, startling both her and Xander as they rose and turned. In the window they could see a pale face looking back. Joyce gasped in shock, her coffee spilling all over the table as she jumped forward.

"Buffy!"

Buffy Summers was in bad shape. She knew it, and anyone who laid eyes on her would know it.

She'd taken a nasty shot to the cheek, and it had crushed some bones, she was pretty sure. More then that she was bleeding from an abdominal cut, and she was feeling pretty faint. She was moving now on sheer guts alone, and the knowledge that if she got home she'd be ok.

Xander's at home. She thought as she staggered down the sidewalk.  
He'll make it better.

She knew that he would. He always did.

Xander and Giles.

They were the only men in her life, ever, who had never let her down.

She blinked, clearing sweat from her eyes as she stumbled across her lawn and literally fell against the house. She pushed herself along the wall, coming to a light in the kitchen window and looking in, her head thumping against the glass.

She saw her mother and Xander inside, and heard her mother scream her name as the world went black and Buffy fell to the ground.

Xander made it to the door just ahead of Joyce because he'd gone straight for the door while she had instinctively lunged for the window before realizing her mistake. He flung the door open, for once forgetting to check for any hostile `things' outside, and rushed out and around the corner of the house.

"Buffy..." He said urgently, sliding to his knees by her body as he quickly checked out her injuries. "Come on, Buff... talk to me!"

Her eyelids fluttered and she looked up, smiling at him through the injuries she'd taken. He heard her mumble something, but didn't understand it. It didn't matter, she was awake and responding to him.  
That was the main thing, he told himself as he checked her neck, arms,  
and legs for breaks.

No reaction, but she was still looking at him.

No breaks then.

He rolled her onto her back. "Stay with me, Buffster. I'm right here."

"Buffy!" Joyce yelled as she rushed over.

"Joyce," Xander said warningly, his voice brooking no argument.  
"Stay back until I check her out."

Joyce froze in place, looking down at her injured daughter, wanting nothing more then to draw Buffy into her arms and comfort her. She started forward again, moving up beside Xander and brushing against him as he moved.

His hand and arm slapped out along her chest and he pushed her back,  
"Please. I'm almost done."

Joyce hesitated, but bit her lip and obeyed.

She watched Xander finish his check, then move to pick Buffy up.

"She doesn't seem to have any internal injuries or broken bones." He said, picking her up lightly in his arms. "Let's get her inside before the smell of blood attracts something unpleasant."

Joyce nodded jerkily, moving ahead of him to open the door for them.

Oh God. Please be alright, Buffy. Please be alright!

Chapter 19

Joyce watched, half in a daze as Xander set Buffy down on the couch and forced her eyes back open with his thumb.

"Stay with me, Buff." He said sternly.

No matter how many times she saw this, and it was growing to be far more times then Joyce wanted to think of, she would never grow used to seeing her eldest Daughter injured like this.

"Joyce!"

Joyce shook herself, realizing that Xander had been trying to get her attention, "What?"

"Get the first aid kit." He said, turning back to Buffy.

Joyce nodded and moved, running to the bathroom and retrieving the first aid kit from under the sink. By the time she got back, Xander had Buffy stretched out on the couch and was talking steadily to her.

"Pretty bad slash there, Buff." He was saying conversationally as he pulled the hem of her bloodied shirt out of her jeans. "But we've seen worse... You'll be fine, but just stay with me until we get you patched up. K?"

He looked up as Joyce arrived and nodded, "Open it up and put it down here."

She obeyed, flipping the large tackle box open, and dropped it down beside him.

I wonder why I never noticed how well equipped we were for medical emergencies before I found out about the Slayer deal? She thought,  
her mind following an odd tangent as she looked down as her daughter continued to bleed.

Xander was still moving, pulling a pair of shears from the case and making short work of Buffy's favorite blouse.

Joyce winced. She was going to be hearing about that in the morning.

Xander sheared the material right up the middle, then pealed it away, wincing as the blood made it want to stick to Buffy's wound.  
Joyce felt her heart jump as Buffy groaned, but one part of her mind noted that Xander didn't even flinch.

He grabbed some water from one of the sterile packets in the kit,  
ripping the foil pack open, and poured it over Buffy's belly. The red tinged water ran off her stomach, soaking into her clothes and couch,  
but the cleaning also revealed the ugly slash that crossed Buffy's stomach like a ragged ribbon.

"Nasty." Was all Xander said as he mopped away the water and blood,  
"But this can't be what's keeping you down Buff. You've had worse..."

Xander left the wound, moving up her body, his hands feeling along her chest and back for broken ribs, then up along her throat. Finally he grabbed a pocket flashlight from the kit, and flashed it into Buffy's eyes.

That done, Xander sighed and sat back for a second.

"What?" Joyce asked, fearfully. "What is it?"

"She'll be fine." He said, moving again as he reached down into the kit and pulled out a tube of superglue. "The cut is just surface...  
she'll hurt for a couple days, but with her Slayer healing it shouldn't even leave a scar... The reason she's so out of it is because she took a nasty smack to the old noggin. But it's not serious, she'll be ok after she gets some rest."

"Are you sure?"

Xander nodded, pulling a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit next, laying it next to the superglue on Buffy's stomach. "Yeah. I'd be worried if she were anyone else... But she's Buffy. She'll be fine by morning."

"What are you doing?" Joyce asked as Xander started to pick at her wound with the tweezers.

"Taking some of the grit and chunks of cement out of here..." Xander told her, removing a rather large piece of blood covered gravel. "I think someone hit her with a headstone."

"With a...?" Joyce' face paled in shock and horror.

"Yeah. A knife or sword would have made a much cleaner cut..."  
Xander told her, "Probably would have gone deeper too."

She watched in ongoing horror as Xander continued to clean out the wound, first with tweezers, then with another two packets of water,  
until he was satisfied that the slash was clean. Then he began squeezing the skin back together and added dabs of superglue to hold it in place.

"Xander?"

Xander didn't looked up, "Old soldier trick, Joyce. It works...  
though I had to buy some special glue for it..."

"Huh?"

"The original stuff was poisonous." Xander kept talking, his voice calm and collected. "Though, given the choice between being poisoned and bleeding out on a battlefield... I'd take my chances with the poison."

Joyce found herself listening as he spoke, rather then panicking,  
somehow following the cool calm tones.

"This glue isn't though."

Joyce looked at him blankly.

"Poisonous." Xander said, glancing over at her. "It's not poisonous.  
Surgeons use it... Really. Trust me."

Joyce shook her head, feeling a little at a loss as she tried to follow what he was saying.

Xander kept up his prattle, talking continuously as he finished his task, then pulled out a gauze pack and wrap. "Had to take a couple courses in this last year... Well, not had to you know, it just seemed like a good idea. For a while I even thought about becoming an EMT,  
you know?"

Joyce shook her head.

"Decided against it though." Xander smiled. "Can't stand the sight of blood."

Joyce giggled slightly.

Xander shrugged, "Yeah yeah, go laugh at the poor underachiever."

Xander finished up his patch job, taping the gauze into place and cleaning up. He took the shears again and finished destroying Buffy's blood soaked blouse, then gently fitted his hands under her back and legs and lifted her up.

"You want to catch the door to her room for me, Joyce?" Xander asked calmly as he started toward the stairs.

Buffy was upstairs, sleeping soundly, and Xander was gone back home,  
but Joyce Summers was still awake and sitting in the kitchen as she sipped at another cup of coffee.

Every time she saw Buffy get hurt it killed a little part of her,  
and Joyce wondered sometimes how many times it could happen before she died in her daughters place. Buffy was her little girl, no matter how powerful and tough she was. Tonight was probably her fault, too, and that was killing her inside too.

She was causing as much damage as that bastard Parker ever had.

She had thrown Xander at Buffy, which undoubtedly contributed to the situation that had happened tonight.

She was just as bad for her daughter as anyone else.

That was a lousy revelation.

Joyce sighed, thinking about the situation again.

Nothing had changed, really. Buffy needed a stabilizing influence in her life, and she wasn't about to accept her mother in that role. Mr Giles was obviously out, for mostly the same reasons. Buffy was getting to the age now where she certainly wasn't going to listen to her elders, assuming she ever really had.

Which meant that whoever Buffy dated was going to have an immense influence over her thinking and actions, because that person was going to slip into the position of advisor and confident that had recently been vacated by Joyce herself, among others.

Attempting to push Buffy together with someone who might fill that role had been a disaster, however.

Which, Joyce smirked bitterly, she should have foreseen.

Which meant that Buffy had to pick someone for herself.

Joyce would feel much better about that if her daughter had shown a little bit more maturity in her past choices.

Unfortunately, Joyce thought dryly, she had instead exhibited about the same level of intelligence as her mother did at her age.  
Thankfully, Joyce had never had a lifestyle quite so dangerous as her daughters, otherwise it was unlikely that she would have survived her teen years.

With Xander out of the question... who else? Joyce wondered as she drank her coffee.

Or was Xander out of the question?

He had certainly managed to show a little spine once her daughter was in trouble, and unless Joyce was mistaken he had even spent a great deal of effort keeping *her* calm. That was impressive, Joyce decided. Especially for an emotional basketcase.

Joyce smirked slightly thinking things through.

Maybe she was going about this the wrong way. It might just be that she should leave Buffy to her own devices for a while. For all her problems, Buffy actually had a pretty decent and realistic handle on the world. Xander, however, did not.

Maybe *he* should be her new project.

Joyce smiled softly to herself.

The idea bore thinking on.

Xander sat out on the curb a few blocks from Buffy's place, ignoring the few idiots and fools crazy enough to be out this late.

He was staring at his hands as they refused to hold steady.

No matter what he did, he couldn't keep from shaking now. His whole body was shivering, and his heart was slamming in his chest, and he couldn't stop cursing himself.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. He shook as he sat there, shaking his head.  
Your fault, you IDIOT. You threw her off tonight, and you damned well should have known better.

He couldn't blame anyone else, not even the vampire or demon that had actually done it. He had been the one who had screwed with Buffy's equilibrium this time.

He snorted.

Buffy wasn't so far off when she thought I was Parker, now was she?

It was dark when she opened her eyes, but things felt better already.

Buffy reached down, under the blankets, and felt the bandage that was wrapped along her belly and sighed.

Too close.

Stupid Buffy. Really Stupid. She sighed, wincing as her head pounded. She rolled to one side, then smiled slightly as she saw a tall glass of water and four extra strength advil resting there.

Bless you, Xander.

Chapter 20

Breakfast was set, and Dawn was already eating, when Buffy made her appearance the next morning. Joyce forced herself not to fawn over her eldest, reminding herself tersely that Buffy was probably a lot better then she thought, and more then anything needed food, not an angry mother.

"Hello, Dear." She smiled, eyes nonetheless watching for any sign of weakness in her daughter. "Hungry?"

"Famished." Buffy said with a weak smile.

"Hey... How come your not in your Dorm?" Dawn asked suspiciously.

"Buffy doesn't need a reason to sleep at home, Young lady." Joyce turned her tension on her youngest instead. "Now hurry up and eat your meal before you miss the bus."

"Alright." Dawn made a face at her older sister, but this time Buffy didn't have the strength or will to bother shooting back.

"Thanks, Mom." She said, sincerely grateful when the meal appeared in front of her. "I really *really* need this."

"That's what mothers are for." Joyce said, relaxing a bit as Buffy dug in.

Xander groaned and swatted at his alarm clock as the pesky thing went off in his face, but nonetheless pushed himself out of bed.

Time to get up. He thought blearily, staggering toward the cheap shower stall in the basement bathroom.

He sent the water to cold and stood under it long enough to get wet and thoroughly awakened. That done he shook himself and let some of the warm water into the stream and grabbed for the soap.

Showering took him barely ten minutes, and soon Xander was up and out of the house.

He walked into `town', grabbing a paper at a newstand and ducking into Starbucks for a morning Coffee.

Coffee in hand, he flipped open to the want ads and went back on the job search.

"Alright," Joyce closed the door behind her youngest and turned to look at where her eldest was leaning against a door jam and eating a bagel. "Shouldn't you be in bed, young lady?"

Buffy smiled, more of a smirk really, and rubbed a hand along her stomach. "I'm ok, Mom. All I've got now is a mild headache, and that's mostly gone too. By tonight, tomorrow at the latest, my stomach will be mostly healed. Next week, not even a scar. You'll see."

Joyce scowled openly at her daughter's idea of a comforting promise,  
and merely raised her eyebrows. "I watched Xander patch you up last night, young lady. If you were anyone else, you would have been in the hospital about four minutes after we found you outside."

Buffy shrugged, but shivered just a little, "Yeah... well, I am the Slayer. Fast healing is part of the package."

"I'd feel much better if you didn't need that particular part of the package quite so much." Joyce sighed, giving it up.

"Yeah well..." Buffy matched her sigh, "That's also part of the package."

Joyce nodded slowly, walking back into the kitchen with Buffy in her wake. She sat down at the table and lifted her cup of coffee to her lips. "I know. I really do know that, Buffy. It's just so hard to see in person."

Buffy nodded silently, taking a seat across the table and pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"You know, Buffy..." Joyce said finally, "Sometimes you remind me so very much of your father... and it frightens me."

"I remind you of Dad?" Buffy asked, puzzled. "How?"

"He was a lot like you when it came to his job, you know." Joyce told her daughter, then laughed a bit. "Oh, not in the violent, demon fighter sort of stuff, but in how he approached what he did."

"Dad was a stock broker... wasn't he?"

Joyce laughed again.

"Yes, your father was a broker." She nodded.

"I... uh... don't understand." Buffy said, smiling a little weakly.

"I mean that when your father was working... that was all that matter." Joyce told her, "He used to work himself right into the hospital... just like you."

Buffy snorted softly, smiling. "I don't think it's the same, Mom."

Joyce shrugged, "I don't know. Oh, the reason for the risk is different, true... But your father had an ulcer at a very young age,  
and went through surgery three times before you were five."

"I... didn't know." Buffy frowned slightly. "I don't remember Dad being like that... I mean... Yeah, he worked a lot, but he had fun too."

"Yes." Joyce' eyes twinkled. "Yes he did."

"Needs high school... I have high school..." Xander muttered as he circled an ad in the paper... "Umm... But I don't think that I want to do that... Nope. Nope."

Xander scratched the ad off, then looked over another one. "Hmmm...  
A government position... Ah... nah, needs spanish."

He sighed and looked over another one, puzzling through the rather odd requirements listed for some of them. I wonder why a ditch digger needs a College degree? And aren't ditches dug by machines now anyway?

Maybe the title isn't literal... Xander sighed, reaching over for another drink of his coffee.

It was empty, so he sighed and got up to walk over to the counter.

"Yeah," He nodded when one of the clerks approached. "Could I get a double mocha and a croissant please?"

A few moments later his order arrived and Xander started back toward his table. Halfway there he paused and turned back, "hey..."

"Yes?" The girl behind the counter asked politely.

"You guys have any openings?"

Joyce idly watched the flowers as they swayed slightly in th breeze from the open window. Buffy had left to return to her dorm room sometime early, with a planned stopover at Giles' place to let him know about the events of the previous night.

She wondered if Buffy would tell Mr Giles all about the night, or whether she would hold back certain key pieces of information.

Joyce smiled, she was betting on the latter. She'd have to check with Giles sometime, assuming she could get a straight answer out of the British man. He was far to concerned with protecting both Buffy and herself, and would likely try to keep her from worrying too much.

She sighed.

Sometimes Joyce figured, if it weren't for Xander and the occasional slips Buffy made, she'd never know anything that was going on.

That was going to have to change.

Though, to be honest, she had no clue how to go about that without causing more stress on her daughter.

This sucks. She thought flatly, using language in her mind that she hadn't used out loud in decades.

Oh my. She smiled into her coffee. Has it really been that long?

She shelved that line of thought and turned back to what she had been considering the night before.

She honestly didn't have any idea what to do to help Buffy, and every path she could see pretty much led to disaster. One thing Joyce knew, though, was that when you had a particularly nasty dilemma the best thing to do, often enough, was to put it aside and deal with something else.

In this case that something else just *may* even offer an answer to her primary problem.

And that something else was called Xander Harris.

Joyce pursed her lips as she sipped at the steaming coffee and pondered the problem in a bit more depth.

Xander certainly had a lot going for him, that much she knew.

He was brave and loyal, funny when things were too serious, serious when he had to be. And certainly he showed that he had some steel in his spine the night before. Hadn't he not only gave her orders, but also managed to make them stick?

Joyce smiled, remembering how he'd pushed her back.

If not for the seriousness of the situation, I'd think he was trying to cop a feel. She laughed softly, able to do so now, while she had not been able to the night before.

Seriously now, back on topic. Joyce chastised herself, frowning again.

Ok, it was true that Xander had a lot going for him. Lord knew, it wasn't that the boy had to depend on his charm either. He wasn't hard on the eyes in the least.

If she'd been a few... umm... years younger...

Joyce chuckled again, getting up and putting her cup in the sink.

Alright, but he had his share of problems too.

Joyce sighed. And she was fairly certain that she could pin a few of them down, at least as to their causes. She'd met his father, briefly it was true, but she'd met the man. He'd reeked of booze and looked like he hadn't bathed in a week.

Now, in fairness, there was every chance that the man was on vacation from work and simply didn't want to DO anything during his time off. But even so, Joyce knew that people who let themselves get into that state at any time weren't generally the best examples for young children, let alone teenagers.

Ok, so maybe I know why he's got such a confidence problem... Joyce frowned thoughtfuly. There was every chance that she had found the cause, and if things were worse then she'd seen... If, perhaps,  
Xander's parents didn't have a good marriage, or... God forbid, were the sort to be abusive...

It would explain a great deal.

Joyce sighed, thinking furiously as she cleaned the kitchen.

She might be wrong, but to be honest it felt too right to her. With that assumption, Joyce decided that she could see why Xander behaved the way he did. The gawky, awkward teenage years were all the worse if one didn't have any support from home.

But the question remained... What was to be done about it?

Joyce smirked slightly.

Well, there is ONE way guaranteed to put steel into the spine of the least confident young man... her eyes glittered in amusement, But I would hate to imagine the look on Xander's face if I tried THAT.

Of course, She continued, *hate* is a terribly strong word...

Chapter 21

I've sunk to a new low.

Xander Harris adjusted the stupid uniform he was wearing, and smiled as he looked over the counter. "Hi, how can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'd like a Double Cappo and a Cinnamon Danish." The man said in a bored tone, barely glancing at the menu.

"Yes Sir, would you like that for here or to go?"

"Here."

"That'll be five twenty five, and just one minute Sir." Xander told him as he turned around and got the man his order.

Normally, Xander figured, that there was no way in hell anyone would hire someone right off the streets to work the same day, not even at a Starbucks. Somehow though, he figured that they had a turnover problem with the night shift here.

Small wonder. Xander sighed to himself as he rang up the order and slid the coffee and danish over to the man with a tired smile. "Here you go, Sir."

"Thanks." The guy shrugged, taking his order, and walked off to another table.

"No prob." Xander said, grabbing a cloth and wiping the counter down to clear the few crumbs the danish had left as it passed.

The place was mostly empty, `cept for the man who had just ordered and a couple cops sitting in one corner with their radios turned off.

Xander ignored them as he tried like hell to remember how to run the Frappa whatever machine. Two hours walkthrough before dusk wasn't enough to learn this shit.

He was still puzzling it over when he heard the door open and glanced over his shoulder and sighed.

Oh Shit.

Joyce stretched out in the tub, sighing as she rubbed the oil into her skin.

The day hadn't brought many answers, just more questions in reality,  
but that was pretty much normal. The first idea that had popped into her head that morning was still the front runner for injecting a little still into Xander's spine, or at least making him take a long serious look at himself. The problem was that the concept was entirely scandalous.

Joyce smiled softly, closing her eyes as she kept working the oil into her skin.

Seducing the boy was out of the question, of course, but it had it's drawing points. It would certainly give him a little self confidence if a woman showed serious interest in him, but she shuddered to think of the reaction that Xander would have.

Alright, so it was a *good* shudder, but even so...

Besides, she sighed as reality set in, it would cause an entirely new order of problems should anyone learn of it. Xander may be eighteen, but he wasn't just any eighteen year old. He was her daughter's best friend, and this whole situation started to keep Buffy from being torn apart of emotions that could get her killed.

Too bad. Joyce smiled mischievously. Could have been fun.

Of course, all that did assume that she would even be *able* to seduce him. To be honest, Joyce wasn't certain she could. Oh, she had no doubts about her own attractiveness, those kinds of thoughts weren't conducive to the things she enjoyed best. However, she wasn't certain that she could keep from giggling if Xander reacted the way she expected he would.

And that, that might just kill the poor boy.

Besides which, she frowned, even if she did plan to go that path...  
she didn't know nearly enough to help him along. She just didn't have the talent of knowing people.

Joyce opened her eyes.

That's it. She smiled, That's the solution.

After a moment she smirked and leaned back as her hands slid lower.  
Xander Harris... You are going to OWE me.

Vampires.

Xander eyed them as they came in, keeping his face neutral. The cops in the corner hadn't noticed them yet, assuming that they would do anything if they did. An assumption that Xander wasn't prepared to make.

There were three of them, two guys and a girl, and they were walking with that predatory gate that Xander would know anywhere.

Like a lion on the hunt, or the way A Slayer moved. Xander saw it easily, along with the pale skin and the dirt and blood caked under their fingernails. Even the female vamp had hints of it left under her nails, so Xander figured them for newbies.

Two of them at least.

The woman, he wasn't sure about. She was the Alpha, he thought,  
leading the pack with a calm but prepared gait.

"Can I get you anything?" He asked simply as she and her cohorts stepped up to the counter.

"I'm sure you could." The Vamp licked her lips as she looked him over, causing Xander to shudder.

Why is it that only the demon babes ever look at me that way? He thought, a hint of self pity slipping in under his armor.

Outwardly, though, he just sighed. "Just what's on the menu."

"Awww..." She pouted, almost as cutely as Buffy might manage, Xander noted. "You sure you can't come out and play?"

"I'm working, Ma'am." Xander said, hoping that he could simply talk his way out of this. Why me? Why now? Why can I never hold a job for more then a day?

The woman slapped her hands down hard, her face vamping out as she propelled herself up on the counter while the other two spun on the three others in the Starbucks, game faces fully evident.

Xander staggered back, surprised despite himself, as his hand went to his belt. The vampire locked her hands around his throat, dragging him closer, until all he could see was the power and hate and even lust in her eyes.

Fuck.

Las Vegas, Nevada

The phone rang five times before a neatly manicured hand reached down to pick it up. The receiver lifted with exaggerated slowness to the ear of the darkly dressed woman who was leaning back even as she started to speak.

"Lady Heather speaking."

"Heather... It's Joyce." A remembered voice came over the line.

The woman known as Lady Heather smiled cooly, but paused for a period. "Joyce? I used to know a Joyce... But she must be dead,  
because the woman I knew wouldn't have stopped calling for almost five years..."

There was another pause.

"I'm sorry." Joyce said sincerely, "To be honest... There was a while when I didn't think I was ever going to call you again."

The smile vanished with a smooth finesse that left the woman seriously considering the phone like it was some odd species. "How is Hank?"

A tiny hitch in breath, barely audible over the phone, and Lady Heather sighed silently.

"Hank and I are divorced."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Joyce." The woman said softly, her tone conveying her sincerity. "I truly am."

"You don't sound surprised."

Emotion wasn't something that the woman let sip often, and then only when she was alone if she could help it. So when, this time, emotion came upon her, she let it go and grimaced slightly.

"I'm not." She told her old friend after a time. "Hank never really understood you... and you... well, you didn't really know him either."

"I see." Joyce sounded distant now, more then the physical separation of the phone line as well. "You could have saved us some trouble if you'd told us."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps I would simply have ruined what good you did have with each other." Heather responded simply. "I'm not a sorceress,  
Joyce... I just... read people very well."

"Yes well..." Joyce said quickly, shoving her personal thoughts aside. "That's what I'm calling you about."

Something in her old friend's voice awoke something that Heather rarely felt lately. Intense curiosity. Interesting people had a tendency to do that, much like Gil had done when they'd met. She so rarely met any really interesting people.

"Oh?" She smiled, leaning forward.

Joyce Summers *was* one of the more interesting people she had ever known, so she just had a gut feeling that this was going to be good.

"Yes." Joyce said, and Heather could hear a smile in her voice.  
"It's about a young man."

"How young?" Heather permitted herself a smirk.

"Very."

"Oooohhhh... Nice to see that you haven't let yourself turn into a nun." Heather said smoothly, smiling still.

"It's not quite like that."

"*Quite*?"

There was a silence for a moment.

"This is about something else." Joyce said after a moment, trying to shift the conversation.

For the moment, Heather decided to allow that. "Very well, why don't you tell me what it's about?"

"He's... interesting." Joyce said after a moment, "Very much a clown by times... But there's something else in him... I can only glimpse it by times... And I was hoping..."

"You were hoping that I might... bring it out, shall we say?"  
Heather smirked softly.

"Something like that." Joyce admitted.

"Maybe we could work something out." Lady Heather said after a moment. "A... personal arrangement, even."

She could hear another hitch in Joyce' breath and smiled contentedly.

"That... might be arranged."

"Well then... why don't you tell me about this young man of yours?"

Chapter 22

The Stake had driven up instinctively, slamming into the lady Vamp's chest even as she bared her teeth in his face.

Oddly, the only thought that ran through Xander's mind at the time was, Gack! Vamp breath!

Then the shocked look on her face disintegrated into dust all over the counter he had just cleaned.

"Aw Damn IT!" Xander cursed, then immediately covered his mouth as the other two vampires turned to look at him. "Fuck!"

"Where's Sandy?" One of them asked stupidly.

Xander snickered.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?"

"Sandy?" Xander couldn't help it, he started laughing. "Let me guess..."

He pointed to one, "You're Dusty,"

He turned to the other, "And you must be... What? Clay? No... no wait, I've got it! You must be Ash!"

The two Vampires looked at each other stupidly for a moment, then back at Xander.

"What the fuck are you talking about, man?"

Xander sighed. "Great. How come Buffy get's the vampires who*understand* wisecracks?"

"Let's just kill him." One of them said, taking a few steps forward as the other moved to back him up.

Joyce drew in a breath, thinking hard.

How to explain Xander?

"Xander is..." She started.

"Xander? That's an interesting name..." Lady Heather said into the pause.

"It's short for Alexander."

"Ah." Joyce could hear that knowledgeable tone that told her that somehow she had just explained something vital about Xander, and yet didn't know it.

"AH?"

"Go on." Heather said, lounging back into her plush chair as she waited for Joyce to gather her thoughts.

"Xander is a friend of my daughter's." Joyce finally said, "He's actually saved her life on a couple occasions."

"Mmmm..." Heather didn't sound surprised, and didn't ask any questions. She just waited.

"For a while I thought that Buffy and Xander would get together... I even tried to push them into it." Joyce confessed.

"Tsk tsk." Heather clucked softly. "That's never a good idea, Joyce.  
You know better then that."

"I... just hoped..."

"A couple must find one another... Hope may be all we have, but we can't force love. It's difficult enough to even encourage lust, as far as that goes." Heather told her, "So what happened?"

"I'd given up." Joyce confessed, "I'd come to pretty much the same conclusion... Xander was hopeless.. He got nervous whenever Buffy was near him, and totally blew a perfect chance to kiss her. It was really quite pathetic."

Heather chuckled softly over the phone. "It's my experience that most men are."

Joyce couldn't help but smile slightly, then remembered what had happened later and shook her head. "But he's not. Buffy had an accident later that night... she was bleeding badly, and had taken a bad hit to the head. She collapsed outside my kitchen while Xander was here... and..."

"And he took control." Lady Heather supplied.

Joyce found herself nodded, "He did. He checked her out, put her back together, and did it all while keeping me from panicking. I was a total wreck, but he just... handled everything."

Heather pursed her lips pensively, considering the story. "He certainly sounds like an interesting young man."

Joyce nodded to herself. "He is. But he's also infuriating..."

"Because he isn't interesting your daughter?" Heather asked pointedly.

"Oh, he's interested." Joyce countered, "You can read that for yourself if you want, but I know he's interested. It's just that when it comes to her... he's a total cretin."

"You just may be right then," Lady Heather smirked softly. "The strongest men lose their wits around a woman they love if they doubt her feelings in return."

"That's Xander." Joyce said dryly. "But it's more then that... He's really... he has no confidence at all in his life, until something happens that requires him to act, not think."

"Ahhh..." Lady Heather breathed out, "Fascinating. What do you know of his home life?"

Joyce marveled at the way her friend's mind worked. Over the phone,  
in *minutes*, and Lady Heather was already zeroing in on the conclusion it had taken Joyce weeks to arrive at. "I believe that his father may be an alcoholic."

"Yes. He would be." Heather said simply. "Alright, this young man may well be worth my time. But I have to ask you a question, Joyce..."

"Alright." Joyce steeled herself. Lady Heather's questions had a way of digging deeper then you wanted them too.

"Why do you wish this Xander to become involved with your daughter?"

And Joyce winced, because that was a loaded question indeed. She took her breath, and began to explain as best she could without digging into the existence of Vampires and Slayers. She told Lady Heather about how Parker had hurt her, and how Buffy had been physically hurt in direct connection to it. Then she spoke of Angel,  
and how Buffy had run away because of him, and how when their relationship finally burned out it had sent her daughter into a downward spiral of depression.

And Joyce mentioned a few of Buffy's other choices in men as well,  
and her fear that Buffy would bring herself to actual harm if it continued.

When asked why she thought that, Joyce again explained as best she could, still leaving out the existence of vampires and Slayers, but she thought that she managed to get across how Buffy threw herself into her responsibilities.

So when she was done, Joyce fell fearfully silent, wondering if she'd said enough, wondering if she'd said too much.

"I see." Was all that Lady Heather replied.

That was all?

Joyce frowned, "You do?"

"I believe that I do." Heather corrected herself, "I'd have to meet Buffy to be certain."

"What do you see?" Joyce asked, almost despite herself.

"Joyce, you know your daughter better then I do, but it sounds to me like she isn't quite as much like Hank as you thought." Heather replied.

"She isn't?"

"Hank was a classic Dominating personality." Heather replied, "The reason you two didn't last was because he couldn't deal with your growing dominance at home. On the one hand, he loved it, the things that it brought out in you were something he treasured... But he didn't love what it brought out in him, even though the submission was probably keeping him out of the hospital for a time. Unless I miss my guess, he had an affair... probably with one of his subordinates, a secretary perhaps?"

Joyce winced. "Yes."

"He needed to express his dominance... and you had taken that away from him at home. No matter whether it was for his own good or not, it eventually forced him to seek other pastures." Heather told her on a softly serious tone.

"Oh." Joyce said, sinking into her chair as she considered what her old friend was saying. So it was me.

"Now, your daughter, on the other hand, is not showing any of those tendencies." Heather went on, distracted Joyce from self recrimination. "She is specifically selecting people that, in your own words, can take care of her."

Joyce blinked, she hadn't really thought of it that way, but it was true.

"In one way or another, the men you describe are the sort who are capable of caring for her..." Heather said softly, "If she's as forceful about her responsibilities as you say, Joyce... Then is it really much of surprise that what she wants when she comes home is someone that can shoulder at least some of what she deals with?"

"No." Joyce said simply, knowing that it was true.

What she knew about Buffy was more then Lady Heather, and what Heather was saying fit more and more as she considered the Slayer side of her daughter. She wanted... No, she *needed* a relationship in which she wasn't the one who handled everything. She had too much on her plate as it was, so becoming involved with someone she would worry over wasn't an option to her.

She needed someone who could take care of at *least* some aspect of the relationship.

And it wasn't that Xander couldn't do that, of course, it was simply that on the surface he didn't give the appearance of being able to.

Joyce sighed.

"Now, as to your young man... I really have no idea whether he would fit into that role... Are you certain you wish to continue?" Lady Heather asked simply.

Joyce just nodded, "This isn't about Buffy right now. I... I owe Xander, and I think that he really needs... help."

"Very well." Lady Heather said, "I suppose all that remains is to decide... Do I come to you, or you to me?"

The hands around his throat were squeezing hard enough that Xander had been gasping like a fish out of water for the past minute or so,  
only able to stay conscious because the damned vamp was tossing him around the place like a plaything.

"Not laughing anymore are ya!?" He asked as he slammed Xander around and through the big plate glass window and they tumbled out into the street.

I think he's pissed. Xander thought through the pain, Course maybe that's cause I dusted his buddy by surprise... would piss me off too probably.

Xander hit the ground first, but rolled with the wait and somehow wound up on top.

He'd lost his stake, but his hands were free and he snagged a piece of broken glass and slashed it across the vamp's throat.

The vampire let go in shock as his mouth opened and his eyes widened in shock. Xander jumped up, kneeing the bastard in the crotch as he got up, then scrambled around for the discarded stake.

"Xander!"

He looked up, face almost pathetically grateful when Willow and Oz ran up. He gasped out one word, "Stake..."

Oz underhanded him one from under his jacket and Xander caught it in mid air, mind in a daze as he slammed it down into the vampire's chest. As it vanished into dust, Xander collapsed onto the ground.  
Shit. My life can't get any fucking worse.

Chapter 23

Joyce hung up the phone and but her lower lip nervously, second guessing herself now that the decision had been made.

Lady Heather could be a force of nature, and setting the woman loose on your life was akin to trying to ride a tornado, no matter how calm and collected she appeared. Joyce knew from personal experience that she could make things that had once been clear seem so murky, while some things that had been murky would become clear.

And now she was committed to not only bringing that force back into her life, but into Xander's as well.

Not that Xander was likely to mind, in all truth. Once the initial shock of the situation had worn off, Joyce had no doubt that he would become a fast friend of the older woman. Whether or not anything else happened in the process, Joyce decided not to dwell on it. What would happen now, would happen, and she was fairly certain that Xander would come out of it with a new perspective on himself.

One could only hope that it would be for the better.

The boy truly did need to realize that he wasn't the screwup that he seemed to believe.

"Jeeze, I'm such a *screwup*!" Xander muttered, surveying the damage.

The broken glass was everywhere, his blood spattered across the sidewalk and soaking through the towel he had wrapped around his hand,  
and the three customers that had been there before... two of the *Cops* were long gone.

In short, Xander was utterly disgusted with himself, Sunnydale, and pretty much the entire planet.

"It's not your fault, Xander..." Willow said comfortingly. "It was a Vampire."

"Three." Xander muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"It was three vampires." Xander sighed, kicking a broken piece of glass aside.

"You killed three vampires?" Willow asked, frowning.

"Yeah. So?" Xander glanced at her.

"Nothing..." She said quickly.

In the mood Xander was in he didn't much feel like being patronized,  
but for the sake of their friendship he kept his mouth shut and glanced at Oz. The Werewolf nodded and put an arm around his girlfriend's shoulder, "Will, hon... maybe we should leave. I don't know if Xander wants us around when his Boss gets here."

He could say that again, Xander sighed under his breath. The man had been furious at being woken up, and had left the phone off the hook as he stormed out. Xander could hear him curse all the way out to the car.

"But... but..." Willow looked around.

"It's alright, Wills." Xander said grumpily. "Oz is right, you can't help here... and My Boss will be here pretty soon."

"A... alright..." Willow sounded a little dejected, but allowed herself to be led off by Oz.

Xander watched them go with a mixed feeling of relief and dejection.

Fortunately, or not, depending on how you looked at it, the feeling did last too long before his boss showed up.

"Holy SHIT, Harris!" The man screamed as he saw the glass, "What the HELL?"

"It was like this..." Xander said, starting with a half prepared lie about gangmembers on PCP, but the man didn't let him get to it.

"Get out of my SIGHT. I don't want to hear it... In fact, I don't want to hear from you!" The man raged, yelling and hollering loud enough to wake the dead.

That thought made Xander flinch, but the man just took that as a sign of victory.

"I mean it Harris! Get the hell out of here! And don't even THINK of coming back to pick up your check... In fact, don't come back at all... EVER!" The man raged, "You hear me!?"

"Yeah yeah," Xander muttered, turning his back on the man and walking off.

"I'm putting your picture up on the wall of the employees break room, Harris!" He kept yelling at Xander's back. "You'll never get service at this Starbucks again!"

Xander ignored him, shaking his head tiredly. "I'm so fucking devastated."

Buffy Summers was out on patrol.

She shouldn't have been, the cut on her stomach was only just healed and she could probably cause it to tear open if she strained too much,  
but the Slayer in her could only last so long on enforced rest. As much as she railed against the idea of being the Slayer, deep down she knew that she couldn't run away from it.

Whatever `it' was, it lived deep inside her, and it came with her wherever she ran.

She had learned that the hard way after sending Angel to hell.

No matter how fast or how far she ran, it always was right there.

Waiting.

So she patrolled.

Luckily the night was slow, the only vampire she'd seen was a newly risen dweeb that hadn't even mastered how to walk as a vampire. Not being in a mood to stretch things out, she just went for the quick kill and was pleasantly surprised that it actually worked this time.

She was cutting across the park on her way to another graveyard when she spotted a figure walking all hunched over and turned to investigate. As she got closer, she recognized him.

"Xander?"

"Xander?"

Xander looked up in surprise, recognizing Buffy as she approached him slowly. "What are you doing out tonight? You should be taking it easy!"

Buffy smiled a bit and relaxed, something that irritated him for no reason he could discern.

"I had to get out." She confessed, "I was going nuts."

"If your mother knew that you were out so soon..."

"Well she doesn't, and you're not going to tell her either." She told him bluntly, and was somewhat surprised to find that he only shrugged and looked like he didn't really care. "Are you ok, Xan?"

Xander sighed, "I'm fine. I just got fired again, that's all."

"You got fired?" She asked, surprised. "I didn't know you got another job."

Wrong thing to say, and Buffy realized it right after it left her mouth.

Xander grimaced. "That's me... The one day wonder. Get the job and lose it before anyone knows I was working."

He sighed and started walking, forcing Buffy to walk along with him.

"I'm such a screwup." He sighed.

"You're not!" She objected. "You do lot's of good... umm... Stuff."

He laughed, bitterly, and shook his head. "Thanks for the try, Buff.  
Look, I'm just going home and I kinda want to be alone right now, ok?"

"Wha... oh." She blinked, stopping in place as he kept walking. "Ok..."

Buffy watched him walk for a while, until he was just out of sight,  
then determinately started out after him. I'll just follow him until he gets home... Just to be safe.

Xander sighed when he heard the occasional footstep behind him.

He'd known that Buffy would follow him, or had hoped at least, but he would have felt better if she'd at least *tried* to hide it.

I don't even deserve her A game. Xander told himself, shaking his head as he walked toward his basement.

At this point even he knew that he was being silly at best, but he didn't care either.

Of course I don't. It's not like I'm a sleazy bastard trying to get in her panties, or some super-vamp looking for a teeny bopper lay. He thought nastily, not caring whether he was being fair or not.

The world wasn't fair to him, so why the fuck should he be fair to anyone else?

Luckily he wasn't far from home and he went in, locking the door behind him so that Buffy wouldn't get any ideas about trying to cheer him up, then shut off the lights.

The last thing he wanted right then was anyone who wasn't at least as miserable as he was.

Buffy stood outside Xander's home for a while, waiting long minutes while she watched the darkened basement windows and wondered if he was really asleep inside. Finally she sighed and turned away.

He's not a screwup. She told herself, wondering why her voice sounded almost defensive.

It took a few moments, then she found the reason.

He had only said what she often thought.

Even she winced at that thought, but knew it was true. She'd called him that, and worse, by times, if only to herself.

But he wasn't.

Not really.

Right?

Buffy didn't head back to her dorm, instead she walked toward somewhere that she knew she could find someone to talk to.

Joyce Summers wrapped the terrycloth robe around herself, frowning as she heard Buffy's soft voice.

"Mom?"

"Buffy?" She opened the door to her bedroom, and saw her daughter there. In a brief panic, the mother of the Slayer searched her daughter's body for sign of injury. "Buffy, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Mom..." Buffy assured her, "Can... Can we talk?"

Joyce' eyes widened slightly, but she just stepped to one side and let the door open a little wider.

Buffy wordlessly walked into her mother's bedroom and pulled the door shut behind her.

Chapter 24

"What is it, Buffy?" Joyce asked with concern as she folded her robe up under her and curled her legs up while sitting on the bed.

Buffy crawled up onto the end of the large bed and looked a little lost.

Joyce let her think for a while, until Buffy found the right words.

"I'm worried about Xander, mom." Buffy said finally.

Joyce' raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Xander? Why?"

"I found him out walking through the park tonight..." Buffy bit her lip.

"And what were you doing in the park, young lady!?" Joyce demanded.

Buffy winced. "I was... well I was sorta patrolling."

"I thought we had an agreement."

"I was fine, Mom!" Buffy protested, "And anyway, this isn't about me so can we hold off on the Mom-Fit and focus please?"

Joyce scowled at her daughter but reluctantly nodded. "Alright.  
What's wrong with Xander?"

"He got fired tonight." Buffy sighed.

"He did? I didn't know he had a job..."

"Me neither." Buffy said, "But he got one and lost it tonight... I don't know, he just... he didn't look so good, you know?"

"Buffy, he got fired. How is he supposed to look?" Joyce asked.

"I know, I know... But... He scared me, ok?" Buffy admitted defensively.

"What? He threatened you!?"

"No! No... Not like that... I mean... well, he just wasn't...  
Xander." Buffy said, then sighed. "I'm not explaining this well. He just... He said stuff like how big a screw up he was and he just...  
scared me."

"Buffy..." Joyce sighed, "Xander isn't going to always be cheerful.  
I'm sure that he'll feel better in the morning..."

"Maybe... But when he said that I tried to say he wasn't and..."  
Buffy's lip twisted.

"And?"

"And for a minute there I couldn't think of anything to use as an example." Buffy admitted, sighing. "I'm such horrible person. I mean,  
he's saved my life and I can't even cheer him up and..."

"Buffy..." Joyce said seriously, "You're not a horrible person...  
But that's not something that I can convince you of... Just like you can't convince Xander that he's not a screw up. You're going to have to prove it to yourself."

Buffy sighed, "Yeah. I know. I just don't like to see Xander like that... He's always... I don't know, he's like a bright spot in the dark..."

Joyce listened to her daughter talk and an idea occurred to her. One that might just solve a few of her problems. "Buffy... What if I offered Xander a job at the Gallery?"

Buffy looked at her, brightening. "You'd do that?"

"Yeah... I mean, I always need help with the deliveries, and I'm sure that Xander could handle it." Joyce shrugged, smiling internally.  
"Besides, it beats hiring a stranger."

"I think that'd be great!" Buffy said, all smile.

She lunged forward and hugged her mother.

Joyce hugged her back, smiling too, though for a different reason.  
It's Perfect.

Xander Harris woke up early, but not of his own accord.

The knocking on the basement door penetrated his depressed stupor after about five minutes or so, and he got up and grabbed a pair of pants on his way to the door.

Now what? he asked himself, shaking his head. Let me guess... It's the cops and I'm under arrest for vandalizing a Starbucks.

He sighed, buckling up his pants and reached for the door, opening it to reveal...

"Miss Summers?" Xander blinked at the early morning sunlight pouring in.

"Hello Xander, may I come in?" She asked, smiling politely.

Xander backed up, still blinking, and she walked past him, her gaze passing over his trim chest and abs as she smiled slightly.

Xander blinked again, though not from the sun. Did Buffy's Mom just check me out?

Nahhh... He closed the door, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What can I do for you, Miss Summers?"

"Please... Joyce." Joyce told him, taking a seat on the old couch that he had in the center of the basement. "And I've come to see if you're interested in an idea I had."

"Oh?" Xander asked, grabbing a shirt as he noticed her looking at his chest again. Too freaky.

"Buffy told me that you lost your job last night..." Joyce said flatly.

Xander winced. Well, she doesn't hold back.

"Yeah, that's right." He said dejectedly.

"Well," She shrugged, "What would you say to working for me?"

Xander grimaced. Buffy laid a guilt trip on her.

"Look, not that I'm ungrateful or anything," Xander said, "But I really don't want charity here. I'm trying to figure out what to do with my life, and..."

"I'm not offering charity." Joyce told him sharply, frowning slightly at him. "I've needed an assistant in the back for a long while, and the fact is that reliable people in Sunnydale aren't exactly the norm. I've had a ridiculous turnover rate for this job already, and... frankly, I've been doing it myself for months rather then bother with someone else who's going to quit, or worse, not show up one morning..."

Xander winced as Joyce' voice took on a dark tinge.

"I understand how dangerous this town is, Xander," She went in, "and beyond that, I know that it's a real pain on running a business."

Xander sighed, nodding.

He could understand that.

"To be honest, if it weren't for the fact that I really can't afford another move..." Joyce sighed heavily, "And the fact that Buffy wouldn't leave anyway... I'd probably have moved us out of Sunnydale a long time ago. The Gallery is hard to run on my own, and... well the money from it isn't great."

"Then how are you going to afford to hire someone." Xander carefully didn't say `hire me'.

Joyce smiled, "It's not THAT bad either. Actually, when it comes to online sales, I do fairly well."

Xander snorted, smiling finally. "That figures."

Joyce nodded. "At anyrate, I need an assistant... Someone to do the heavy lifting, inventory... probably a little bit of work up front too. A real Jack of all Trades. Are you up for it?"

Xander sighed, "I don't know Miss..."

"Ah..." She held up a finger.

"Joyce then." Xander mock scowled. "I mean... I really am grateful for the offer but..."

Joyce nodded, "I understand. But it IS on the level. The fact that it will help you out is just a bonus to me."

Xander sighed, thinking about it.

"A very *nice* bonus, to be true," Joyce smiled warmly. "But I do need someone to help out."

Xander nodded, taking a seat on a rickety old stool. He looked up and smiled, hiding a sigh. "I really do need the money... Alright...  
When do you want me to start?"

"Today if you like." Joyce slapped her thighs as she stood up. "I can even give you a drive in."

Xander nodded.

"Uh. One thing." Joyce smirked.

"What?" Xander asked, puzzled.

"Change." She ordered him, looking at the rumpled shirt and pants he was wearing.

Xander glanced down, then grimaced, and nodded.

"Yes, Ma'am." He grinned.

She rolled her eyes, "I told you already, Xander. Joyce is fine."

"Umm... right." Xander grabbed some clothes from his dresser and headed for the bathroom to clean up. "I'll remember that."

The door closed behind him and Joyce smiled, shaking her head.

"Oh, I know you will." She smirked.

Later that day Xander found himself straining under a large metal statue as he tried to heave it into position.

"Careful!" Joyce told him sharply. "That's one of a kind, and it'll go for over ten thousand dollars."

Xander wheezed as he finally shifted it to the place Joyce had marked off and leaned against the wall. "Damn. You weren't kidding about heavy lifting."

"No." She grinned, "I wasn't. I've wanted that moved for over a month now. The delivery men didn't listen to me when I told them to put it over here."

"Someone really pays ten grand for that?" Xander waved at the abstract image of a man.

"Phf, certainly." Joyce waved off his question. "In fact, I have three offers tendered on this one. I expect I'll have to ship it out by the end of the month."

Xander looked at the huge thing and groaned. "You mean we just got it there, and you'll want to *move* it?"

Joyce smiled. "That's how things work, Xander."

Xander groaned.

"Come on, I have a display case you can set up, and then we can talk about the trip." Joyce told him.

Xander nodded, following along, until the words filtered through.  
"Trip?"

Joyce glanced back, nodding. "Of course. There's a convention in Las Vegas this week. I wasn't certain if I was going to go, but I was recently speaking with a friend who lives nearby and I'd like to see her again. Nothing like mixing a little business with pleasure."

"I... I don't know if I can hold down the shop so soon Miss...  
umm... Joyce." Xander said, panicking at the thought.

Joyce laughed, "Oh, I'll shut down for a couple days. You're coming with me."

"I am!?"

Chapter 25

Five days and a few hundred miles later, Xander Harris was still asking the same question.

What the hell am I doing in Vegas!?

Unfortunately, the only person with that answer tended to *giggle*  
quietly when asked.

Which, from Xander's point of view, was a VERY bad thing.

Overall, he wasn't certain which was worse, actually. The giggling,  
or the fact that it was Buffy's mom who kept doing it. He was leaning toward the latter, but the former was almost as bad.

On the other hand, the convention in question had actually been interesting.

Xander had never realized how valuable art was.

Ok, sure, he knew that a Picasso or a Van Gogh was something special, but he wasn't talking about multimillion dollar pieces necessarily. There were real craftsmen and women turning out practical works of art that were going for more then he ever expected to make in any given *year* of his life. Even the smaller pieces were doing respectably well, and that wasn't even digging into the real artists.

The Art part, Xander couldn't seem to get a handle on.

Which, oddly enough, made Joyce giggle just as much as his questions.

He'd bounced from what display to another at the convention,  
completely lost. Why one painting that looked like an explosion in a paint factory was worth twenty thousand and another one that looked exactly the same as far as he could tell wasn't selling for anything at all, well that was totally beyond him.

To Joyce though, it seemed clear. Xander had to give her that, she navigated the wierdness like Buffy navigated Sunnydale at night. It was her territory.

Joyce.

He winced.

She had actually started to become Joyce in his mind, which was kinda weird. He was used to thinking of her as `Buffys Mom', or `Miss Summers'. Giving her a name made her... well, it made her *his*  
friend, rather then his friend's mother.

Which really was taking some getting used to, but it wasn't a bad thing at all.

At anyrate, while his knowledge of art sucked eggs, Xander and Joyce both had been pleased to discover that his eye for *crafts* was nearly as good as his employers. He'd already steered Joyce away from several items that looked good but had shoddy work hidden by slap dash methods.

Which was what he was checking out right now, actually. Joyce was considering a Texan supplier of metal working for her shop, and she'd asked Xander to have a look at the work.

"Joyce?" Heather smiled slightly, cocking her head as the voice came over the phone. "Are you in town?"

"Yes." Joyce smiled, glancing back over the convention. "There was a convention in town that I could nearly justify visiting."

Heather laughed softly. "There always is. This is Vegas, my dear.  
He's with you?"

"He is."

"Good." Heather smiled. "Bring him by tonight."

"Alright."

"I'll see you later then."

When Joyce returned, Xander was talking animatedly with the person running the small booth she'd sent him to. She slowed up, staying around the edges as Xander asked questions about the metal working and was shown the materials and products.

She was actually impressed with Xander. He either knew a fair bit about the subject, or simply picked it up fast, because the back and forth seemed to make sense to both Xander and the man he was speaking with, but she couldn't make much of it at all.

Of course, she'd always been more into the higher end art then the crafts that made up the bulk of her sales. Those required the least general knowledge to actually sell, compared to high end clients that expected the very best service for their money. Comparitively, of course, it was the less expensive items that paid the bills but, as always, it was the high profile ones that brought in the customers.

She watched as Xander and the man finished whatever they were talking about and appeared to have reached some sort of agreement,  
though what that might be she couldn't fathom. She trusted Xander, but she wasn't about to give him the power to make deals for her. Not yet anyway.

As they finished, she stepped into Xander's line of sight, and he instantly nodded to her and waved her over.

"Phil, this is my boss, Joyce Summers." Xander said, "Joyce this is Phillip Morris. He runs the metalshop just outside of Austin."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Morris." Joyce smiled, taking the man's hand.

He took hers, shaking it surprisingly gently for a man with hands a large and coarse as his were. "Always a pleasure to meet a lady as lovely as yourself, Miss Summers."

Joyce smiled, but didn't respond.

Xander had actually reddened a bit over the compliment to her, which amused Joyce to no end, but quickly went on. "Phil and I were just talking and I think that some of his ornate crucifix's might actually sell really well in Sunnydale."

Joyce raised an eyebrow curiously, "Oh?"

Xander nodded, smiling. "Have a look..."

Joyce accepted the item from Xander and blinked in surprise. The Crucifix was about eight inches tall and designed to be freestanding or to hand on a wall. It was made of a solid piece of hand twisted metal if she was right, and actually shimmered with colors as the light struck off the metal.

It certainly *wasn't* a classic crucifix, but Joyce thought that Xander might be on to something. There were people who wouldn't even consider buying a cross, or showing on in their home, who may actually enjoy having something of this nature around.

Almost reluctantly she nodded. "You may be right, Xander."

Xander smiled, letting out a breath. "I'm glad. I uh... cut a bit of a deal already."

Joyce glared openly at him for a second, but tempered the look quickly. "May I ask what kind?"

"The kid drives a hard bargain." Phil told her, almost sounding embarrassed. "He said he wanted some on consideration, payment depending on sales. Now, normally I wouldn't do that... But we got to talking and I can see my way through to a single case. That's ten crosses, you pay shipping."

Joyce blinked.

"That's... very fair." She said, surprised. "Very well, I think I can manage that..."

She paused for a moment, the looked over the rest of the display.  
"And what other work do you do?"

She didn't notice Xander's smile widen, nor did she see Mr Morris stifle a chuckle as the younger man flashed him a covert thumbs up.  
Joyce simply began to look more closely at the table she may have passed by in favor of larger displays a few moments earlier.

Later, after having increased her order from the small shop to encompass several items that she was fairly certain she could sell easily, and noted several others for future orders, Joyce checked the time and guided Xander out of the convention hall.

"What's up?"

"I have a friend I want to see, and I'd like to introduce you to her." Joyce said, hiding her smile quite well.

"Oh?" Xander frowned, starting to get that weird feeling again. If she hadn't been harping on him asking Buffy out so much lately, he almost have thought that Joyce was setting him up with a girl.

"I think you'll like Lady Heather." Joyce said, speaking her friend's name to Xander for the first time.

"`Lady' Heather?" Xander asked as they stepped out onto the strip,  
the neon glare of the city illuminating their way. "That's... an odd name."

"Heather is an odd woman, to some." Joyce smiled, flagging down a passing taxi.

As they climbed in, she called out the address and turned to look at Xander, who was actually a little pale. "Oh relax. She doesn't bite.  
Much."

Xander chuckled softly, relaxing. That was a joke he got.

Joyce laughed along with him, though not at the same thing of course.

Xander looked up at the impressive home in a bit of shock.

"Wow." He managed to get out.

It wasn't just the home, really. But the location was as shocking as anything else.

In this part of a major city, *any* City, Xander was pretty sure that a hovel would probably cost more then his entire block back in Sunnydale. The house perched at the top of the slight incline here was a masterpiece of architecture, and was in immaculate condition.

"Your friend has some home." He told Joyce as she rang the bell.

"Thank you."

Xander nearly jumped out of his skin as the soft voice whispered in his ear, and he twisted fast as his hands came up on instinct, and he placed himself between Joyce and the source of the voice.

"My my." The source of the voice said, sounding amused. "Jumpy aren't we?"

Xander felt his heart stabilize as he stared at the woman who had somehow *appeared* behind him like that. She was pretty, no scratch that, she was beautiful. Yep. That was the word for her, to be sure.  
She appeared perfectly at ease with the fact that he hadn't yet dropped his hands, looking over his shoulder at Joyce as if he'd simply shook her hand rather then reacted to her like she was some nutcase trying to kill him.

"Joyce, it's SO good to see you." She said, smiling as she stepped around Xander, meeting Joyce halfway in an embrace.

"Heather, God, it's been too long." Joyce said as they hugged.

Xander stared at the blonde and the red head hugging each other,  
trying to get his brain in gear again as he tried to think of a reason for nearly attacking the woman.

Then Heather pulled back a bit, and still smiling, drew Joyce in closer, tilting her head, and kissed her soundly on the lips.

Xander closed his eyes.

There was NO FREAKING WAY that just happened.

He opened his eyes.

Still kissing.

Still KISSING!?

Xander flushed red, then turned quickly away, staring dutifully at his feet as his mind reeled.

Behind him he heard the two women break apart and laugh softly at him.

"Oh, you're right Joyce. He's just TOO cute."

Chapter 26

Joyce was blushing more then just a little, but her light flush was nothing compared to the state of mental lock that her young friend was suffering from, and Lady Heather was thoroughly enjoying both as she careful kept her smile small and purposely `mysterious'.

Joyce had been right about the young man, there was a lot more to him then first glance.

Heather had watched them both as they left the cab, watched them approach the house. The young man had been nervous, not on edge, but nervous. He'd tailed along behind Joyce, obviously following dutifully and not because he actually wanted to.

Heather had smiled when she saw that.

It was the sort of thing she often saw in many of the young `slaves'  
her fetish house catered to. Young men and women uncertain in their chosen path, yet following it anyway.

Put frankly, it was stereotypical of a newly bonded Master and Slave.

What happened when she whispered from behind him, however, was not.

She'd had no doubt whatsoever at that moment that if she'd appeared to be a threat, the young man would have killed her on the spot.

That wasn't `slave' behavior, or... at least, it wasn't typical slave behavior.

There were exceptions, after all.

Heather decided to talk with Joyce about it before anything else.

"Well?" She nudged her friend, who was still lightly flushed and a little flustered over the kiss.

"Uh... What?" Joyce asked, hand lightly rubbing her mouth.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Joyce?"

Joyce stammered a bit, but covered quickly Heather noted with that same knowing smile. The woman had obviously been out of the community for far too long if she found herself flustered by a kiss as chaste as that one was.

Still, the blond shook herself a bit and regained control of her faculties.

pity. Heather thought. She looks good when she's flustered.

"Lady Heather," Joyce finally said with a smile that wasn't *too*  
forced. "This is Xander Harris."

"Xander?" Heather asked, raising her eyebrow.

"It's short for Alexander." Joyce responded.

"A pleasure to meet you, Alexander." Heather said, turning to the young man, still amused by his stammering.

He nodded jerkily, taking her offered hand lightly. She was somewhat disappointed that he didn't lift it to his lips, but instead settled for a light shake.

"P... please. Ma'am."

"Oh please." Heather said with wave and a smile. "Heather. Ma'am makes me feel so old. Do I look old to you?"

Xander swallowed again, trying to keep his head on the matter at hand.

Namely, not fainting.

His mind reeled for a bit, then rewound and replayed the question she had just asked.

"No!" He blurted, then shook his head as even *more* blood rushed to his face. "Uh. I mean..."

Heather and Joyce were both laughing softly at him by that time, and he decided that shutting up was his best bet.

"I'm pleased to hear it." Heather told him, taking her hand back.  
"Now, if you'd like to come in?"

"Ummm... uhhh..." Xander wasn't sure he wanted to be anywhere near this place in all actuality.

"We'd love to." Joyce said firmly, pushing Xander along ahead of her as they both followed their host.

"Perfect." Heather said, leading them in through the hall and then into her private reception area.

Joyce was bouncing back and forth between mortification, amusement,  
and (as much as she hated to admit it,) arousal. Three states of mind,  
she noted, that Lady Heather had a talent in evoking.

She followed the other two into the comfortably appointed room,  
taking a place on the plush love seat when it was offered, and stifled a laugh as Xander uncomfortably took a seat as far away from the both of them as he physically could.

The poor boy. She spared him a moment of pity, then just smiled softly. Sink or swim time, Xander. Sink or swim.

Xander was drowning.

That was the only way he could possibly convey the sensations he was feeling. It was the only thing that even *remotely* conveyed the situation in which he found himself.

The woman kissed Buffy's MOM.

And worse...

MUCH worse.

It had been *hot*.

Xander groaned, shifting in his seat as he tried to unobtrusively rearrange the hardness that was forming a lump in his pants.

Bad thoughts!

Oh my. Heather smirked. There IS more to him then meets the eye.  
Well, *physically* at least.

She kept her soft, knowing, smile in place and turned to Joyce.

"It's so good to see you again, Joyce... It's been far too long."

Joyce, she noted, had regained a sense of composure, though was still vaguely flushed from earlier.

"I know, Heather." She said, "I've missed our conversations."

"So have I." Heather admitted. "In fact, I was just thinking about your... mouth... a few days ago."

Aha. There was the pink flush again. Joyce looked remarkably good,  
Heather thought, her expression changing only subtly as her eyes glanced over at the young man.

He hadn't caught the double entendre, unfortunately... Oh... wait,  
yes he had. Heather suppressed the urge to chuckle as she saw his eyes widen and lock on her face involuntarily. He was obviously in a state of shock, which she supposed she couldn't blame him for. Young men were particularly easy to manipulate, and inducing shock was among the least difficult things to accomplish.

"And you, Alexander," She said, addressing him this time. "What sort of thing do you do?"

"I... I uh..." He stammered, amusing her, but to her surprise he didn't look to Joyce for help in answering.

Interesting.

"I work for Miss... uhmmm... I mean I work for Joyce." He finally said.

She nodded, "Into art, then?"

"N... no, not really." He shrugged. "I just do some lifting is all."

Ah. Heather cringed inwardly. He's *modest*.

"Actually," Joyce spoke up, "It seems that Xander has quite an eye for quality craftsmanship."

"Oh?" Heather glanced back to her old friend. "Really?"

"Really. In fact, he saved me from buying some shoddy work earlier... probably saved me a great deal of hassle with customer complaints later." Joyce said flatly.

"That's very interesting." Heather said, considering the information. "And what do you think of Las Vegas, Alexander?"

"Big." Xander replied instantly, not thinking. "Lots of dark alleys."

That brought her up short.

Not that there *were* a lot of dark alleys, of course, but that a visitor would notice them. Vegas was a city designed to hide such things from the eyes of non-residents. He looked past the neon glare of the strip and saw right into the...

The what?

Heather looked at him again, noting the way he sat and the way his eyes didn't rest on anything for very long.

Interesting.

If she had to wager on it, a habit that she personally found vile,  
she would say that he didn't know he was doing it. There was no control in his eyes, no plan. In fact, his eyes had the look of someone with a paranoiac's view of the world.

And yet, the rest of his body didn't.

Curiouser and Curiouser. Lady Heather found herself warming to the subject.

This young man was an enigma to her.

A rarity in her world. Someone she couldn't read within a few moments of meeting him. Lady Heather smiled a little more and considered what to do next.

Observing him might help, certainly would help, in fact, but it may not be the best way to learn what she needed to know. She'd start with Joyce.

So, decision made, she smiled and turned to the young man,  
"Alexander... I'd like some time to... catch up with Joyce. Would you mind?"

He practically levitated out of the seat, "Uh no. Not at all. I'll just..."

"Why don't you feel free to look around my house." Heather smiled craftily, noting that Joyce was suddenly trying not to choke. "Any doors that are locked are, of course, off limits. But please, I'd consider it a favor if you had a look through the rooms that are unlocked and let me know what you think..."

He hesitated, but didn't see anything else to do, so he finally nodded.

"Uh... Sure. Ok. I guess I can do that." He said.

Heather waited for his eyes to be on her, then glanced over at Joyce and smiled. Then she licked her lips seductively, and tried her hardest not to laugh as the young man stumbled backwards, nearly fell over a chair, and fled the room.

Chapter 27

"Oh Man." Xander pushed the door shut and leaned against it, trying like HELL to not think of what was going on, or about to be going on,  
just a few feet away.

In fact, he shivered and immediately started to get as far away from the room as he could.

Man. I can't believe that Buffy's mom is... is... Xander swallowed,  
shaking his head. Nah. She *can't* be. They're screwing with my head...

He nodded, walking through the elegantly appointed hall.

That was it.

That HAD to be it.

This Heather lady and Joyce had set him up.

The MUST have, because Xander did NOT want to face Buffy with something like this playing in the back of his mind.

"Nope." he said, shaking his head. "That's NOT happening. It's a joke, and I'm such a sucker. Yep. That's it."

Xander nodded, walking forward, and reaching for the first door in sight. He twisted the knob and it turned, she he figured he was safe to have a look. He opened the door and slipped inside, and then froze just inside the door staring in total brain locked shock.

As soon as Xander was gone, Joyce started laughing. "Oh God,  
Heather. You DO know what he thinks we're doing in here, right?"

Lady Heather smiled softly, shrugging. "Enjoying one another's company?"

Joyce kept laughing.

Heather watched in mild amusement until her friend stopped, then looked seriously across the short distance between them. "That is a *very* interesting young man you have there."

"Well, he's not `mine'," Joyce smiled, "But I know what you mean.  
More then you think maybe."

Heather frowned, "Did you know that he is capable of violence?"

Joyce had to smile, shaking her head in amazement. "I'll never understand how you pick things like that up so quickly... But yes, I know."

"That doesn't bother you?" Heather asked, her eyes piercing as she looked at Joyce. The young woman she had known had considered violence to be unacceptable in any form.

Joyce sighed, "I haven't changed my views on violence if that's what you mean... But I've learned that there are some things... some times,  
that violence isn't avoidable."

"I see." Heather said, leaning back, gauging Joyce now as much as she had Alexander earlier. "I must say, that I'm surprised to hear you say that."

Joyce shrugged, and Heather realized that she was hiding something.

What it was, the woman couldn't quite tell though.

"Very well." Heather nodded finally. "For what it's worth, I have to say that I'm intrigued by him. He is more then he seems, more then I was able to tell... I have to admit, he puzzles me."

"Well," Joyce grinned. "I never thought I'd hear you admit that."

"I've mellowed with age." Heather said, still smiling softly. She leaned forward, looking at Joyce. "What is he to you? Really, I mean..."

"He's a friend of my daughters." Joyce answered simply.

"That's all?"

"That's all."

"Remarkable."

"What?" Joyce asked, puzzled.

"He was willing to kill... or die to protect you." Heather said simply, leaning back and idly tenting her fingers. "When I surprised him earlier, I saw it in his eyes. He only just stopped himself from attacking me... and when I startled him, before anything else, he moved to place himself between us."

Joyce nodded, losing her smile. "Yes... That sounds like Xander."

Heather regarded her old friend for a long moment. "I think that there is a lot you haven't told me. A young man of Alexander's style of dress and general attitude doesn't learn how to kill in the United States."

"Xander's not a killer." Joyce protested, sighing. "He's... just protective."

"Nevertheless," Heather shrugged. "There are few things in this country which would result in a young man of his station learning to act and react like that. If I didn't know better, and I DO know better, I would almost guess that he had military training."

Joyce frowned, "What makes you think he doesn't?"

Heather waved a hand simply, "His posture is all wrong, so is his attitude. Also, while I've seen elite military people survey a room much like him in terms of speed, they are more controlled. A Military trained eye would stop to rest on each item in a room long enough to identify it correctly, then move on. Alexander's eyes never stopped,  
even when he started to relax slightly. His eyes weren't a trained response, they were an ingrained one."

Joyce smiled sadly, nodding. "You haven't lost anything over the years, Heather."

"I've lost many things," Heather smiled, "However I've gained experience. Why don't you tell me what exactly it is that you're hiding from me?"

Joyce sighed, smiling ruefully.

She should have known that Heather wouldn't be fooled for very long.

Finally she nodded, "Alright... But you're going to think I'm nuts."

Heather shrugged, "Perhaps. But there is only one way to be sure."

Joyce nodded, and started to speak.

Xander stared in utter shock, not believing what he was seeing.

It wasn't...

It couldn't...

But he couldn't deny what his eyes were seeing.

There was a man at the far end of the room, stripped down to a pair of leather briefs that cramped Xander up just *looking* at them,  
*chained* to the wall, flinching under the lash of a buxom blonde in a classic dominatrix outfit.

And suddenly Xander realized that after years of facing Vampires,  
Demons, Ghosts, Principal Snyder, and every other monstrosity under the sun...

He wasn't even CLOSE to being prepared to handle this.

The blonde must have heard something, and she half turned to see him standing there, but didn't appear disturbed in the least by his presence. Instead she just winked at him, and went back to lashing the near naked man with the whip in her hand while snarling obscenities at him.

Xander stumbled backward, and shut the door as quickly and *quietly*  
as he possibly could.

He leaned against it, heart pounding in his chest, eyes wide as they stared around the place in total shock, and could only think one thought.

What in the HELL is Joyce into!?

Lady Heather sighed and leaned back, her smile gone as she shook her head sadly.

"I'm so sorry Joyce."

"What?" Joyce blinked.

"For your daughter." Heather said pointedly. "Slayers have very short life spans from what I've been told."

Joyce stared in shock, swallowing. "You... You believe me?"

Somehow she hadn't really been able to bring herself to believe that she would be believed. It was such a fantastic story afterall.

Heather smiled, still sadly, and nodded. "I've known about the supernatural most of my life, Joyce. My mother knew about it, and her mother... And probably even further back then that, though I've not really certain."

"Oh." Joyce blinked in surprise.

"Is it really so shocking?" Heather asked with a smile. "I see all the kinds of humanity in this house... and even some inhumanity. To be honest, for the most part, as observant as I am... I can't tell the difference. People are people, with some glaring exceptions of course."

Joyce nodded, a little dumbly she thought.

Heather shook her head, "Still... let's focus on the task at hand.  
What you say explain a great deal about Alexander... Enough that I may be able to help you with him."

Joyce forced herself back to the present. "Do you think so?"

"As you've said, he's good material... just..." Heather smiled,  
"Poorly molded."

Joyce felt her humor returning as a comment slipped off her tongue.  
"I'm sure that your expert hands would turn him to putty..."

"Joyce, darling... no man turns to *putty* in MY hands until I want him to."

This place is a NUTHOUSE. Xander thought to himself as he closed another door behind him.

This one had some fruitcake riding some lady around like a freaking pony or something.

Xander shook his head.

Oddly enough, it was the riding crop that freaked him out most of all.

I've got to get the hell out of here. Xander decided, shaking his head as he pushed away from the door and started back down the hall.

He was heading for the front door when he suddenly stopped.

His eyes widened, and he slapped his forehead.

I can't leave Joyce in HERE! He staggered at the thought. My GOD,  
Buffy would declare open season on me!

That thought was immediately followed by another.

Buffy must NEVER know about this place.

"Never." Xander muttered over and over again.

"Never say never, Alexander."

Xander froze, then slowly turned to see Lady Heather behind him. He breathed out in relief when he saw her. At least she's still dressed.

"Why don't you come back inside?" She asked with that damnable smile.

Xander was halfway to the door before it suddenly occurred to him to wonder. Holy Hell, I hope that *Joyce* is still dressed!

Chapter 28

Las Vegas at night was a contrast to everything Xander had ever learned about what happened after dark.

The lights were brazenly obnoxious, the sounds as glaring as the neon signs, and the people didn't seem to be slowing down in the slightest. It was actually a kind of culture shock to the small town boy who had grown up on the hellmouth.

In Sunnydale, while most people refused to acknowledge the things that stalked the night, very few people were actually willing to be out on the streets after dark either.

In fact, it was mostly people his age who run around the town after dark like they were immortal or something.

Xander supposed that it gave a bit of credibility to those people who said that youth was wasted on the young or, more pointedly, that young people were morons.

Tonight though, Xander had no eye for the garish lights, and no ear for the beckoning calls of the casinos he passed, or the clubs, or even the large open air gatherings that were occuring around him. His mind was spinning as he tried to get a grasp on what was happening.

The first thing that he had to get a hold of was the fact that Joyce... JOYCE... had taken him to a sex club.

A Fucking SEX CLUB.

It was *insane*.

What the hell would Joyce want with me in a place like that!?  
Xander asked himself about two thirds of a second before the deepest,  
darkest, portion of his mind supplied a long, a VERY long, list of answers.

He shook those images off in short order and shuddered.

Not that there was anything wrong with Joyce, Xander quickly corrected himself. It's just that... Joyce in a Sex Club didn't fit his image of the lady.

Not even CLOSE.

And that Heather lady...

Xander shivered again.

"A Fascinating young man." Heather told her friend after the door had closed behind Xander, settling into her comfortable chair and curling her long legs up underneath her. "I can see what you want him."

Joyce shifted, "I didn't say I wanted him."

Heather smirked, shrugging. "Sorry. Slip of the tongue. I meant why you wanted to help him, of course."

Joyce glared at her old friend, knowing that the woman didn't make `slips' of the tongue without an ulterior motive. "Xander saved my daughter's life... more then once."

She took a deep breath, "And yes. He's handsome, but that had very little to do with this."

Heather smiled, "I know. And I'm glad that you said `very little'  
and not `nothing."

Joyce smiled slightly, "I remember your distaste for any falsity."

Heather shrugged, "We all have our idiosyncracies."

Joyce sighed, looking over her shoulder. "I should go after him."

"Don't" Heather said calmly. "That young man can handle himself better then most... If not for his self doubt, he would be truly formidable."

Joyce glanced back at her friend, knowing that Heather didn't use words like `Formidable' casually. The woman used the English language like a scalpel, and could flay a person alive with her tongue if the situation warranted it. Praise, however, was good as gold from her lips.

"What do you see?" Joyce asked after a moment, wetting her lips with the tongue.

Heather smiled, her eyes shifting a little as she gazed inwardly into memory of the young man who had just stormed out. "He's had a hard life... beyond what you know, or think you know. He doesnt trust anyone in his life... doesn't let them close enough to hurt him... Or,  
if he has, it's only one person at the very most... and even then, I think that his trust is conditional and carefully measured."

Heather thought about the look in Xander's eyes as he protested her observation.

He'd been afraid then, though he hadn't actually known it himself.  
The fear was easy to read, though, deep in the brown orbs.

She hadn't been seeking it at that time, though she eventually would have, but when she asked that one question...

Do you trust anyone?

In that question she had found his fear, and now she understood the man.

"He would die for your daughter." She said after a moment, startling Joyce. "No hesitation whatsoever on his part. The tricky thing will be convincing him to live for himself, then perhaps he might rediscover his feelings toward her."

"This isn't about Buffy." Joyce said halfheartedly.

"Of course it is." Heather reprimanded her sharply. "You hope that Xander still loves her... He does, of course... Though whether he is still in love with her is another matter."

Man that lady was freaky. Xander shuddered again.

Something about her eyes.

Yeah, he thought. That was it.

Her eyes, the ones that looked like they had pierced his soul.

He'd seen eyes like those once before, and the comparison wasn't comforting him. He'd only seen them for a split second before, a flash of insight into the dark recesses of the Vampiress Drucilla. A moment of utter lucidity when she had come for him that Valentines day, one second when the madness had seemed to fade.

Those eyes.

Not that he thought Lady Heather was insane.

No, that woman was in full control of her faculties, which was just as freaky as anything else.

That was something he had never seen before. Not in anyone he had ever met.

Not Giles, for all his knowledge.

Not Buffy for all her power.

Not Willow for all her intelligence.

Not even Oz, for all his control.

No one Xander had ever met exuded that simple aura of... superiority.

That was it, Xander realized. She simply felt like she was better then him.

Not that she believed she was better, but that she actually WAS.

That thought stopped Xander in his tracks as his mind locked on it.  
He turned it around in his head for a few moments, then realized that it really wasn't anything she did that made him feel that. It was *everything* she did.

She simply exuded this sense of superiority, and the more Xander thought about it the more he realized that it hadn't been aimed at him, or anything really. She simply acted like... like...

Like she knows exactly who and what she is. Xander stopped, his mind racing. Like she's satisfied with what she sees in the mirror every night.

And in that moment, he envied her.

"He is a young man with a cause." Heather said softly. "He believes in what he does, in the purity of his direction... even though he doesn't really know what direction he is traveling."

Joyce frowned, "I don't understand."

Heather smiled. "Neither does he."

When Joyce just shook her head again, Heather smiled. "Your young man has found something larger then he is... something worth dying for. That is a powerful motive... If we can convince him that it is also worth living for... well, he will be a singular young man."

Joyce nodded, thinking about the words but not really following.

Heather smiled again, "I actually envy him."

Xander had made his way indoors finally, his Sunnydale bred instincts driving him away from the night and into a crowded place where he could think.

He was in a casino, he noted dully, flashing his ID without thinking when approached.

He made his way into one of the darkened clubs within the glaring,  
blaring, place and took a seat toward the rear as a crooner belted out tunes from the heyday of the neon city.

It was quiet enough to think, and crowded enough to give him a measure of relaxation.

Was she right? He asked himself. Do I have anyone I trust?

Of course I do! His mind rebelled against the thought, I trust the gang all the time... They watch my back when I... when...

He shook his head, knowing that wasn't true. He watched Buffy's back, and it was true that on occasion he trusted his life to her, but that was rare and it was the only exception to a rule. He didn't entrust anyone else with that, not even Willow or Giles.

And, somehow, he didn't think that was what Lady Heather meant anyway.

She meant did he trust them with things that could *hurt* him.

Did he tell them how his dad used to beat him, at least until he had outgrown the old drunk. How his mom used to watch from the doorway,  
her face ashen, but never made any move to help. How one time when he was a kid, he'd nearly beat a Bully to death for hurting Willow.

Not even Willow knew about any of those things.

He didn't trust anyone with his secrets, knowing in his heart that when one person knew a thing, it was a secret. When two people knew something, it wasn't.

There were things in this life he would NEVER trust anyone with.

Xander knew that, deep down in the dark part of his mind that he rarely admitted existed. And more, he knew that... somehow... Lady Heather had looked right through him and saw it.

Just how the hell did she DO that anyway?

Chapter 29

Las Vegas at night was a contrast to everything Xander had ever learned about what happened after dark.

The lights were brazenly obnoxious, the sounds as glaring as the neon signs, and the people didn't seem to be slowing down in the slightest. It was actually a kind of culture shock to the small town boy who had grown up on the hellmouth.

In Sunnydale, while most people refused to acknowledge the things that stalked the night, very few people were actually willing to be out on the streets after dark either.

In fact, it was mostly people his age who run around the town after dark like they were immortal or something.

Xander supposed that it gave a bit of credibility to those people who said that youth was wasted on the young or, more pointedly, that young people were morons.

Tonight though, Xander had no eye for the garish lights, and no ear for the beckoning calls of the casinos he passed, or the clubs, or even the large open air gatherings that were occuring around him. His mind was spinning as he tried to get a grasp on what was happening.

The first thing that he had to get a hold of was the fact that Joyce... JOYCE... had taken him to a sex club.

A Fucking SEX CLUB.

It was *insane*.

What the hell would Joyce want with me in a place like that!?  
Xander asked himself about two thirds of a second before the deepest,  
darkest, portion of his mind supplied a long, a VERY long, list of answers.

He shook those images off in short order and shuddered.

Not that there was anything wrong with Joyce, Xander quickly corrected himself. It's just that... Joyce in a Sex Club didn't fit his image of the lady.

Not even CLOSE.

And that Heather lady...

Xander shivered again.

"A Fascinating young man." Heather told her friend after the door had closed behind Xander, settling into her comfortable chair and curling her long legs up underneath her. "I can see what you want him."

Joyce shifted, "I didn't say I wanted him."

Heather smirked, shrugging. "Sorry. Slip of the tongue. I meant why you wanted to help him, of course."

Joyce glared at her old friend, knowing that the woman didn't make `slips' of the tongue without an ulterior motive. "Xander saved my daughter's life... more then once."

She took a deep breath, "And yes. He's handsome, but that had very little to do with this."

Heather smiled, "I know. And I'm glad that you said `very little'  
and not `nothing."

Joyce smiled slightly, "I remember your distaste for any falsity."

Heather shrugged, "We all have our idiosyncracies."

Joyce sighed, looking over her shoulder. "I should go after him."

"Don't" Heather said calmly. "That young man can handle himself better then most... If not for his self doubt, he would be truly formidable."

Joyce glanced back at her friend, knowing that Heather didn't use words like `Formidable' casually. The woman used the English language like a scalpel, and could flay a person alive with her tongue if the situation warranted it. Praise, however, was good as gold from her lips.

"What do you see?" Joyce asked after a moment, wetting her lips with the tongue.

Heather smiled, her eyes shifting a little as she gazed inwardly into memory of the young man who had just stormed out. "He's had a hard life... beyond what you know, or think you know. He doesnt trust anyone in his life... doesn't let them close enough to hurt him... Or,  
if he has, it's only one person at the very most... and even then, I think that his trust is conditional and carefully measured."

Heather thought about the look in Xander's eyes as he protested her observation.

He'd been afraid then, though he hadn't actually known it himself.  
The fear was easy to read, though, deep in the brown orbs.

She hadn't been seeking it at that time, though she eventually would have, but when she asked that one question...

Do you trust anyone?

In that question she had found his fear, and now she understood the man.

"He would die for your daughter." She said after a moment, startling Joyce. "No hesitation whatsoever on his part. The tricky thing will be convincing him to live for himself, then perhaps he might rediscover his feelings toward her."

"This isn't about Buffy." Joyce said halfheartedly.

"Of course it is." Heather reprimanded her sharply. "You hope that Xander still loves her... He does, of course... Though whether he is still in love with her is another matter."

Man that lady was freaky. Xander shuddered again.

Something about her eyes.

Yeah, he thought. That was it.

Her eyes, the ones that looked like they had pierced his soul.

He'd seen eyes like those once before, and the comparison wasn't comforting him. He'd only seen them for a split second before, a flash of insight into the dark recesses of the Vampiress Drucilla. A moment of utter lucidity when she had come for him that Valentines day, one second when the madness had seemed to fade.

Those eyes.

Not that he thought Lady Heather was insane.

No, that woman was in full control of her faculties, which was just as freaky as anything else.

That was something he had never seen before. Not in anyone he had ever met.

Not Giles, for all his knowledge.

Not Buffy for all her power.

Not Willow for all her intelligence.

Not even Oz, for all his control.

No one Xander had ever met exuded that simple aura of... superiority.

That was it, Xander realized. She simply felt like she was better then him.

Not that she believed she was better, but that she actually WAS.

That thought stopped Xander in his tracks as his mind locked on it.  
He turned it around in his head for a few moments, then realized that it really wasn't anything she did that made him feel that. It was *everything* she did.

She simply exuded this sense of superiority, and the more Xander thought about it the more he realized that it hadn't been aimed at him, or anything really. She simply acted like... like...

Like she knows exactly who and what she is. Xander stopped, his mind racing. Like she's satisfied with what she sees in the mirror every night.

And in that moment, he envied her.

"He is a young man with a cause." Heather said softly. "He believes in what he does, in the purity of his direction... even though he doesn't really know what direction he is traveling."

Joyce frowned, "I don't understand."

Heather smiled. "Neither does he."

When Joyce just shook her head again, Heather smiled. "Your young man has found something larger then he is... something worth dying for. That is a powerful motive... If we can convince him that it is also worth living for... well, he will be a singular young man."

Joyce nodded, thinking about the words but not really following.

Heather smiled again, "I actually envy him."

Xander had made his way indoors finally, his Sunnydale bred instincts driving him away from the night and into a crowded place where he could think.

He was in a casino, he noted dully, flashing his ID without thinking when approached.

He made his way into one of the darkened clubs within the glaring,  
blaring, place and took a seat toward the rear as a crooner belted out tunes from the heyday of the neon city.

It was quiet enough to think, and crowded enough to give him a measure of relaxation.

Was she right? He asked himself. Do I have anyone I trust?

Of course I do! His mind rebelled against the thought, I trust the gang all the time... They watch my back when I... when...

He shook his head, knowing that wasn't true. He watched Buffy's back, and it was true that on occasion he trusted his life to her, but that was rare and it was the only exception to a rule. He didn't entrust anyone else with that, not even Willow or Giles.

And, somehow, he didn't think that was what Lady Heather meant anyway.

She meant did he trust them with things that could *hurt* him.

Did he tell them how his dad used to beat him, at least until he had outgrown the old drunk. How his mom used to watch from the doorway,  
her face ashen, but never made any move to help. How one time when he was a kid, he'd nearly beat a Bully to death for hurting Willow.

Not even Willow knew about any of those things.

He didn't trust anyone with his secrets, knowing in his heart that when one person knew a thing, it was a secret. When two people knew something, it wasn't.

There were things in this life he would NEVER trust anyone with.

Xander knew that, deep down in the dark part of his mind that he rarely admitted existed. And more, he knew that... somehow... Lady Heather had looked right through him and saw it.

Just how the hell did she DO that anyway?

Chapter 30

Joyce looked at her friend oddly, eyes a little wide as the red headed woman smiled softly, staring into space. "Envy him? You?"

"Oh, don't misunderstand, Joyce," Heather said simply, "I wouldn't exchange places with him or anything silly like that. I'm quite satisfied with my life, as you well know."

Joyce nodded. That was more in keeping with what she knew about her friend.

"However there is something alluring to being young and having a cause." Heather said after a moment, "Something... seductive."

"I didn't consider it." Joyce admitted.

"No, I don't suppose you would have," Heather smiled, "But your tastes were always a little more straightforward then my own. You truly enjoyed the simplicity of your life with Hank, the stability."

Joyce half frowned in response, not sure what to say.

Heather just waved a hand, fingers fanning through the air. "Don't misunderstand me, I don't mean that as a judgement. We each have our desires and we attain them as best we can. I don't judge you or anyone else on your desires, merely how you go about attaining them. And you,  
my lovely Joyce, did quite well in that regard."

Joyce purposely ignored the `lovely' compliment, but sighed instead.  
"Not so well."

"Oh pish posh." Lady Heather waved her hand again, "Don't give me that. You have had setbacks in your lifestyle and life, true, but I have little doubt that you dearly enjoy those aspects of your life that you have been able to control. As for those that you can't, well those assail us all at one point or another."

Joyce shrugged, finally having to nod. "I suppose."

"Now, tell me," Heather smiled, leaning forward, "How is Elizabeth?"

"Her name is Buffy." Joyce smiled slightly.

Heather rolled her eyes, "I dearly hope not."

Joyce chuckled softly but nodded, "I'm afraid so. The only place you'll see Elizabeth is on her birth certificate, and even then you'd have to dig for it."

"At least you had that much sense," Heather smiled slightly, rolling her eyes again. "The poor child."

"She's the one who chose the nickname," Joyce held up her hands,  
holding back laughter at the same time. "I tried calling her Beth, but apparently `Buffy' is in vogue or something."

Heather shuddered, shaking her head. "Sometimes I worry about their generation."

"Only sometimes?" Joyce asked with a smile, knowing full well that Heather's own daughter was in college now as well.

"Most times." Heather amended with a smile.

Joyce chuckled softly, nodding. "Me too. But Buffy's fine, at least as fine as she can be I suppose."

"Trouble of the normal kind or the Slayer kind?"

"Both... either..." Joyce frowned, shrugging in annoyance. "One bleeds over into the other so easily."

"Ah." Heather nodded, "You have something specific in mind?"

Joyce grimaced, but nodded. "Buffy was involved with a young man by the name of Parker..."

Heather raised an eyebrow, noting the censure in Joyce' voice.  
"Trouble?"

"Remember Corey?" Joyce countered.

"That bad?" Heather nodded, mouth curling down.

"Or worse." Joyce almost snarled, "Basically a sexual predator,  
probably just waiting to step up to physical coercion."

Heather nodded again, not bothering to try to separate truth from fiction concerning the boy. It didn't matter if he was or not, only what he had done. "He used Elizabeth then?"

"And dumped her right after."

"Ah, a scorekeeper." Heather nodded, mouth a thin line. "Well, I presume that this `bled over' to her Slaying life, as you said?"

Joyce nodded. "Oh yes."

"Was she hurt?"

Joyce just nodded again.

"And thus we come to Alexander." Heather said with a small smile.

"Yeah." Joyce nodded, "and thus we come to Xander."

"Well, I suppose it was a noble idea, Joyce, but foolish." Heather shook her head. "You should have known better."

Joyce sighed, "I was desperate."

"A recipe for poor decisions if ever I heard one." Heather agreed.

Joyce grimaced at her friend, but Heather just smiled in return.

Xander was back on the streets, heading more or less back in the direction he had come from. He couldn't leave Joyce there, if for no other reason then because she was his ride home.

The fact that she was trying to practice psychotherapy on him without a licence was entirely beside the point.

Yeah, right.

She's only trying to help. He told himself glumly as he walked,  
arguing with himself at every step.

The problem was that helping with this wasn't something he wanted anyone to do. He was fine where he was in life.

Ok, so he couldn't hold a job or a relationship.

Or go to college.

Or get a half decent place to stay.

Or...

Alright! So I'm not fine with where I am in life! He growled mentally. God damn it, it's still MY problem to deal with!

Only he wasn't dealing, was he?

Xander winced.

He hated it when he was honest with himself. He always came out feeling like a putz.

I don't want anyone screwing around with my head. He thought,  
kicking at a stone on the sidewalk. That's fair isn't it?

Of course it was fair. He knew that as well as he knew that the rest of the universe *wasn't* fair. Which tended to throw the rest of the fair/unfair equations to the dogs.

Xander sighed, still trudging with his head down.

Fair wasn't a part of this, he knew. What was and wasn't fair was entirely inapplicable to the situation, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

What if she's right? He asked himself suddenly.

What if he could be more? What if he could help more, be better at what he chose to do? Could he keep Buffy unhurt and Slaying a little longer with her help?

Damn.

If she was right, if there was even the *slightest* chance that she was right...

Did he have a choice?

Damn.

He'd die for Buffy. He knew that, though he tried not to think about it too much. Willow, Giles, even Joyce too. It wasn't even a question in his mind.

But was he likely to achieve enough before that happened?

Xander paused on the side of the road, he could see Heather's house just up the hill. It looked like the proverbial haunted mansion on the hell to him just then.

Foreboding, evil even.

The Castle of Doctor Frankenstein.

And he was the bodyparts the good doctor was waiting on.

Xander grimaced at the analogy, shuddering at the thought. He wasn't anyone's science experiment, and he sure as hell didn't want to be this Heather lady's.

But his treacherous mind kept sucking him back to the sticking point.

If he could help Buffy just a little better. Be a better man for her and his friends...

Was it worth becoming someone's little science experiment?

Absolutely.

Xander grimaced distastefully and started to walk up the drive. You know, I really have to ditch this nobility thing I've got going in here somewhere.

Joyce started slightly when the door opened suddenly, but Lady Heather just nodded in the direction of it and smiled.

"Hello Alexander."

Xander was standing there, looking thoroughly miserable, but he also had a determined look on his face that reminded Joyce of how he'd looked when Buffy had been hurt.

"I see that you've made your decision." Heather told him evenly,  
smiling at him. "Would you care to tell us what it was?"

Xander matched her stare, his own face somber. "Can't you tell me?"

"Of course I could," Heather smiled even more, "But I find that some people find it disconcerting when I `guess' what they intend before they tell me."

Joyce watched Xander's face as a hint of a smile flickered around his eyes, though not his mouth.

"I'm not most people." Xander told her evenly.

"No." Heather nodded after a moment, "No, you are most certainly not."

The two watched each other for another long moment, neither speaking.

Finally, Lady Heather sighed with a smile and gave in gracefully.  
"I'll have rooms prepared for you both then.

Chapter 31

"Alexander?"

The soft, patient, voice so startled Xander that he nearly jumped clean out of his room and over the balcony to the ground twenty feet below.

When he turned around, Lady Heather was smiling quite innocently at him with this knowing look on her face like he'd just spilled his life story in one second of instant revalation.

God, but Xander could get to hate that look... If only she wasn't really really hot for a...

Xander blinked. For a what?

While he was drudging his way through those thoughts, Heather just shrugged nicely and laid a set of towels on the dresser. "For the bath."

He looked at the towels, then at her, then back at the towels and nodded nervously. "Uh... ok. Sure. Thanks."

"You don't have to be so nervous, Alexander." She smiled just slightly, "I don't bite. Much."

Ironically, that actually made him relax. She reminded him of a vampire, which was still scary but a LOT easier to handle. He smiled crookedly at her and shook his head, "That's not encouraging."

"I never claimed it to be." She returned, taking a seat on the corner of his bed then, moving with a fluid grace that he envied.

Xander took a breath, eyeing her. "I don't know what it is that you're planning but..."

"Do get over yourself." She said with a grin and a wink, "I'm not that kinda girl."

"Yeah, well you'd convince me of that a lot easier if you weren't running a sex club." He told her flatly.

"This is a Fetish Club, Alexander." She corrected him automatically.  
"Most certainly *not* a 'Sex' Club."

"What's the difference?"

"For one, there is no sexual relations between my staff and clients." She told him simply. "It's strictly prohibited. This is a place where people can explore alternate choices in lifestyles, or create outlets for the stress of their 'normal' lives."

"Yeah. Right." Xander rolled his eyes, "Look, lady, my dad used to say 'if it walks like a duck and it quacks like a duck..."

"Yes," Lady Heather smiled, "Do let's speak of your father..."

Xander's eyes went off like someone had thrown a lightswitch, his face blanking. "Let's not."

Heather shrugged, "Alright."

Xander frowned, eyeing her suspiciously. "Alright?"

"Alright." She nodded. "You don't want to talk about him, that's fine."

Xander shook his head, "And here I thought you were going to do the whole psychoanalyst crap."

"Hardly. I've already *done* the Psychoanalyst crap actually." She smiled at him, looking up from where she was still sitting on the corner of his bed. "And I don't need to analyze you, Alexander."

"Oh? Here I thought you were going to try to 'fix' me somehow." He said sourly.

She laughed, a soft and sweet sound that kind of rattled Xander. It sounded wrong coming from someone who had the things she had, knew the things she did.

"Oh, Alexander, you hardly need to be 'fixed'." She grinned, "If anything, from what Joyce tells me, the opposite is true."

"What Joyce..." Xander blinked, then his eyes widened. "Hey! I didn't mean fixed like that!"

She grinned, "I know."

Xander threw up his hands and turned his back on her, "You're nuts,  
you know that, Lady? Totally nuts!"

"So some people say." She said calmly, not moving. After a long moment of silence, though, she sighed and spoke seriously. "I could tell you how to take control of your life with just two words,  
Alexander... Two words that would completely change how you see life,  
and how life sees you. But you aren't ready to hear those words yet,  
so I'd like to show you some things, if you'll come with me."

Xander closed his eyes, shaking his head. After a moment he lifted his head and looked back over his shoulder, a crooked grin on his face. "Lady, somehow I doubt you have any trouble getting guys to 'come' with you."

She stared at him for a moment, thrown by the crack, then laughed in a single startl;ed moment. "Perhaps you aren't as far gone as I'd feared!"

"I'm probably further gone," Xander replied evenly, "But I trained in Wisecrack-fu with some of the best. You want to play on a dirtier field then usual, that's fine with me."

She smiled, rising to her feet, and offered her hand to him. "Well then, we have a base to build on at least. Now, if you'll... join me,  
I'd like to show you around."

Xander shuddered, but took her hand lightly. "This place? I could do without."

"Now now, be nice. You shouldn't be hard on something you've never tried." She smiled at him mischievously. "Of course, if you want to have a good reason to be hard on it, I could arrange a session..."

"No! Thank you." Xander said, shaking his head. "No offense, I'm sure it's great and all, but I don't feel like prancing around in leather and vinyl while some chick whips my ass."

"Would you prefer to do the whipping?"

"NO!"

"Pity." She said as she brushed lightly passed him. "I have a girl coming in tomorrow who likes that sort of thing."

Xander winced, then shuddered, as he followed her out.

"Ok, you can't tell me that this is normal." Xander hissed quietly,  
eyes wide as he watched the scene below him.

A man had apparently paid an oriental woman to strap him down to a school desk and actually *teach* him seventh grade algebra while wearing a black vinyl catsuit and waving a riding crop around. The catsuit and the riding crop he could accept, the algebra was completely mind-boggling however.

"Normal." Heather shrugged, "What is it? If your life normal?"

Xander snorted, the sound echoing through the room. He froze for a moment, but neither teacher nor 'student' looked up. Finally he glanced over at Heather, "Hell no. But I'm no the best standard of normality..."

"So don't be so quick to judge." She told him then, pointing idly at the man below. "That man is a lawyer, quite successful too. He pulls down six figures, lives alone at the moment because he just had a breakup, and he had a crush on his seventh grade math teacher."

Xander flashed to his math teacher then shuddered. Thankfully the image was quickly replaced by his *computer* teacher in the black vinyl outfit.

Hey, Miss Calender OR Willow, either way I'm still ahead on points.  
He smirked to himself.

"I see that you had a teacher like that yourself." Heather smiled beatifically beside him.

"Cut that out." Xander growled. "Stay out of my head."

"I'm not in your head." She shrugged, "You simply broadcast your thoughts quite clearly to someone who knows how to read you. Though, I will freely admit that learning your signals is quite difficult,  
relatively speaking."

"Great." Xander muttered.

"Still, the point is that it's harmless fantasy." Heather shrugged,  
looking down on the pair again.

"He's paying some chick to prance around in vinyl while smacking her own ass with a crop." Xander said flatly, "It's *weird*."

"As opposed to hunting Vampires every night without pay?"

"Hey! Someone has to do that." Xander growled.

"Must it be you?" She countered.

Xander paused, "No... well, it's just..."

"Something you feel the need to do." She finished for him.

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Must all things people feel the need to do be dangerous?" Heather asked, "Or must they only do what they 'need'? Can't they do, on occasion, what the want as long as it hurts no one?"

"Hey, I'm not saying that he shouldn't be doing it." Xander held up his hands, "It's none of my business, and I don't care what he does on his own time. But It's still *weird*."

She shook her head, smiling tiredly. "Come. We have more things to see."

Xander turned to follow her out, a slap from below making his skin crawl as he chased the beautiful redhead out of the dungeon.

Ok, Xander was officially creeped out.

The pony stuff was bad enough, but the things going on behind locked doors was just creepy.

People who call up Heather's phone line just to be yelled at, or tuned into her webcam sites to be scolded, that was beyond creepy.  
People getting themselves covered in liquid latex and having straws shoved up their noses so they could breath while someone paid to do things to them that Angelus considered fun, that was major league creepy.

But the creepiest thing was that through it all, Lady Heather, who against all better judgement he was starting to like, just kept a calm and self confident belief that not only was all of it acceptable, it was even *normal*.

Xander though Sunnydale was weird.

Heather's calm assertion that what he knew about Sunnydale was probably only half the story kind of freaked him out, cause Xander flashed on a horrifying image of Principal Snyder's idea of a way to 'relieve tensions' and after that he had been afraid to close his eyes for several minutes.

He guessed that it wasn't what was going on that bugged him, though.  
Not really.

Sure it was seriously strange to a guy who'd only had sex a couple times in his life, but it was still just people being people. He could deal with that if he really had too, but he'd be damned if he could see what it had to do with making him a 'better' person.

If either Joyce or Heather expected him to become a leather wearing,  
whip wielding, sadist or... worse, a blindfolded, gagged,  
submissive... well they had another think coming.

Other people could be as weird as they liked as long as they didn't involve him.

That was Xander's belief and he was damn well sticking with it through hell and high water, both of which being a serious concern in his life ironically.

But then...

Why did he get the feeling that Heather wasn't anywhere near done with him yet?

Chapter 32

Sleep that night wasn't something Xander had to look forward too,  
and he was right. Completely barring the obvious problems with the occasional *interesting* sounds from other rooms, which actually weren't as bad as he'd expected, there was the distinct feeling of lack of security as he lay there.

When sleep did come, it was fitful and nothing to brag about despite the relative opulence of his surroundings, causing Xander to actually wish for the crappy bed in his dank basement. Home was nothing to brag about either, but it was home and he felt safe there.

So, by the time morning came, Xander was worn out yet unable to sleep any more. He grumbled to himself as he rolled out of the large bed, grabbing his cloths and quickly got dressed. Letting himself out of his room, Xander checked the hallway nervously for anyone he'd rather not run into but it was clear.

He moved down the hall, hearing familiar voices from the sitting room Heather had greeted them in the night before. He approached cautiously, certainly concerned about what he might accidently run into, but it was for nothing.

"Alexander!" Heather's clear voice rang out, a smile on her face.  
"Welcome, come in, have some tea. I'll have another breakfast brought up."

Joyce Summers, also smiling, and looking a lot more rested then he felt, waved him in too. "Xander, how did you sleep?"

He moved into the room, causing Heather to stifle a smirk.

"Not well, I fear." She said. "Poor boy."

Joyce giggled slightly herself, shaking her head. "I'm sorry Xander,  
I know how nerve wracking your first night here can be."

"Joyce!" Heather said in mock shock, "I don't recall you complaining that night you, Hank, and I..."

"Heather!" Joyce cut her off, blushing bright red. "Please."

"Oh pish." Lady Heather waved her hand, "You brought the boy here,  
you shouldn't have done that if you wanted to maintain some illusion of innocence on your part."

Joyce was still flushed a nice red, but it was Xander who held up his hands, "It's ok! Really, I don't want to know. Seriously."

"Oh grow up." Heather said, not entirely unkindly, but quite seriously. "Joyce here is an absolute marvel, you know. She does this incredible thing with her tongue..."

Heather kept speaking at that point, but Xander tuned her out as his eyes bulged in the shock of the moment and he couldn't help but stare at the still blushing Joyce Summers. It just wasn't right, somewhere in there or something wasn't right at least. For the life of him though, he couldn't figure out what it was. All he could visualize at that moment was Joyce's tongue.

"... You really should try her out." Heather finished whatever she was saying.

"Heather!" Joyce squeaked.

"What?" Xander shook his head, blinking in confusion.

"You should try Joyce out, I promise you she's something else."  
Heather replied, eyes dancing.

Xander blanked out again.

"Oh dear, I think I broke him." Lady Heather said seriously a moment later.

Joyce just glared at her.

"Oh, don't give me that look. You knew full well what I was like when you brought him here." She admonished the other woman with a half smirk.

"I don't recall you being quite so *crude*," Joyce said with a glare.

"Well you weren't an eighteen year old boy, now where you?" Lady Heather shrugged, "Technique, my dear Joyce, technique. Do see if he's still breathing, will you?"

Joyce glanced over to where Xander was still staring off into space,  
a shell shocked look on his face. She sighed and waved her hand in front of his face, "Xander?"

Where there was no immediate response, she gently cupped his cheek with her hand. "Xander."

"Huh? what? Joyc... Miss Summers!" Xander jumped back like he'd been burned.

Joyce sighed, rolling her eyes, and glared at Lady Heather again.  
"Now see what you've done? It took me ages to get him to agree to call me Joyce."

"Pardon me for ruining your progress," Heather said in a dry tone,  
"After all, you were getting SO far."

"Will you both cut that OUT!" Xander blurted suddenly, shivering as he glared at the two of them. "I'm not some damned science experiment!"

"Huh. He speaks." Lady Heather said with a smile, "It's alive, alive I tell you!"

Xander groaned as Joyce laughed lightly, but held up a single finger of warning to Heather. "You call me 'Igor', and I'm going home."

Lady Heather and Joyce both laughed freely then, while Xander looked between the two of them as they enjoyed themselves at his expense.  
Somehow this place was starting to feel just like home, and not in the good ways.

The look on his face must have been something, because Joyce stopped laughing quickly and apologized. "I'm sorry, Xander. It was just to easy..."

"Don't apologize, Joyce," Heather admonished her, "You said nothing concerning him, if either of us were to apologize it would be me. I won't though."

Xander's lips tightened as she smirked slightly at him and he finally just shook his head. "At least I get to see where Buffy got all her bad puns."

"Hey!" Joyce objected, only to have Lady Heather begin chuckling at her side. She turned on the other woman, glaring. "Don't you start."

"Now now, Joyce, turnabout is fair play as they say." Heather said with a smile. "Besides, at least he's joining in the conversation rather then just sit there and stare at your mouth."

Joyce' jaw dropped at that comment, and her eyes widened as she stared in shock at Lady Heather. The other woman, however, merely gestured in her direction with a graceful motion that ended with one slender finger rubbing along Joyce' lower lip in a deliberately sensuous motion.

"See? A Marvelous mouth." She said then, smiling slightly. "And that tongue? Mmmmmmmm"

Xander managed to avoid blanking out this time, but only by the intervention of the arrival of food. A young woman in a maid's uniform, the real thing thankfully, not one of the vinyl ones he'd seen last night, delivered a plate of food to the table in front of him and Xander became very engrossed in the bacon and eggs.

Heather, noting immediately that she'd lost her audience, let her finger drop from Joyce' lip and sighed prettily. When even that failed to attract his attention, she rolled her eyes and grinned at Joyce.

Joyce shot her an irritated glance back.

Heather returned with a wink and a flick of her tongue along her top lip.

Joyce rolled her eyes, then pursed her lips in a parody of a kiss.

Lady Heather let her tongue slide slowly along her lips, making a complete circuit in agonizingly slow motion.

"Will you two STOP that!?" Xander snapped suddenly.

"Oh look," Lady Heather said with a sickeningly innocent voice. "He *was* paying attention."

Xander groaned again, trying to return his attention to his food.

"There is a method to our madness, you know." Lady Heather told him then, attracting his attention again.

Xander sighed, setting down his fork. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Well," She smiled, "In that case..."

Xander glared at her for a moment, then sighed again. "Fine. I'll bite."

"Will you?" Heather asked suggestively. "Well, I'm not certain that I'm into that personally, but as I recall Joyce enjoys an occasional nip."

This time Joyce just blushed again, shaking her head, but didn't comment.

Xander, for his part, tried to firmly push that image aside.

"What?" Heather asked, using that sickly innocent voice that didn't suit her in the slightest. "Did I say something wrong?"

When neither of her breakfast companions said anything, she just smiled. "Seriously though, Alexander... Do you dislike the company?"

"What?" Xander blinked.

"I mean, are we too old and wrinkled for you?" She asked with a simple confidence in herself.

Xander blinked, the question not making any sense to him at all.  
Lady Heather was older then him, certainly, but by no means 'old' or 'wrinkled'. She did have his sort of timeless elegance about her,  
something that even her crude comments couldn't quite detract from.  
Joyce was, or looked perhaps, a little bit older but not by much at all. And again, she was no more wrinkled then even her daughter.

Well, ok... maybe a *little* more wrinkled then Buffy. Xander conceded a moment later, But it's mostly laugh lines, and they're hardly visible at all... and dear GOD why am I thinking this!?

He fell into another silence, to which Lady Heather mock sighed. "I suppose we must me old and wrinkled, Joyce."

Joyce watched with amusement now, finally recognizing some of her friend's tactics despite how she had tailored them to Xander's age and personality.

"What?" Xander blinked, "No... No. You're not."

"Aren't we attractive?" Heather asked then, carefully phrasing it so it was an impersonal question. She didn't think Xander would answer it otherwise.

"Of course." The words came automatically to his lips. Xander hadn't hung out with girls all his highschool years and not learned one or two automatic answers for emergency use.

"Then," Lady Heather leaned across the table and smiled, "You should relax and enjoy yourself, if we're not embarrassed by the conversation, there's no reason for you to be self conscious. We wouldn't be talking about such things around you if we didn't want you to hear."

Lady Heather didn't, Joyce noted, mention that Joyce herself had been embarrassed at several points, but the point was still valid.  
Xander had to learn to move with the flow of an adult conversation,  
even when it strayed into areas he might not be entirely comfortable with. Enjoying the company of the people you were with, or at least appearing to do so, was as important in it's own way as any other lesson Lady Heather might have for him.

Chapter 33

The entire situation was surreal in ways that Xander wasn't certain he'd ever experienced before. The house, during the daylight, was almost normal. If he hadn't been here the night before, and seen what he had, he would think that Heather was a slightly odd, yet quite hot,  
lady who lived a fairly conventional life.

Her choice in clothing didn't seem nearly as disturbing by the harsh light of day, even the black choker she wore seemed elegant in an understated kind of way, and other then her occasionally pointed comments, he had to admit that she was an interesting lady.

Joyce seemed to be really getting comfortable around her too, which was vaguely disturbing in an entirely too appealing sort of way.

Buffy is going to kill me.

"Where is Emily, Heather?" Joyce asked softly.

"She's away at College," Heather smiled, a hint of true warmth showing in her eyes.

"Uh... Emily?" Xander spoke up, using one of his rare moments of lucidity around the unusual combo that was Joyce Summers and Lady Heather.

"My Daughter."

Xander blinked. "Oh."

Lady Heather smirked, and he just knew that she was reading his face again.

"I didn't say anything!" He protested before she could open her mouth.

Joyce tittered slightly, hiding her expression behind a deftly placed hand.

"No, in case you were wondering, I didn't raise her as a Dom."  
Heather replied evenly.

Xander nodded, not knowing what else to do.

"She grew into that all by herself.

Xander started coughing as he choked. Joyce, for her part just laughed while Lady Heather looked on with a knowing sort of smile.

"We do all tend to find our place in life, if we're lucky and well raised." She told Xander.

"Yeah? Well I guess I've got no luck." Xander replied without thinking.

"Perhaps, though I tend to doubt that." Heather told him evenly.

Xander paused, then shut up as his face clouded.

"Our parents have an irrevocable impact on our identity." Heather said then, softly, seriously. "Sometimes we long to be like them, and do stupid things in order to make that happen..."

Xander stiffened, his face tightening.

"Other times we deplore everything about them, and strive to separate ourselves from their example." She went on. "Luckily, for most people, a happy balance is located and children grow up with their own choices and influences."

Xander didn't comment, but inside he was shaking. This woman could nail him to the wall with her words alone, as if she'd known him better then anyone else ever had. And he'd only known her for less then a day. What would she do in a week? A month?

A lifetime?

"In one way or another we can never escape the influence of our parents." She told him then, deftly wielding her words like a scalpel as she sliced one of his worst fears right to the bone. "Can we,  
Alexander?"

Xander didn't say anything, he just got up and walked out.

"That boy has issues, as they say today." Heather said, turning to Joyce seriously.

Joyce nodded, "I was afraid of that."

"A lot of strength there, but it's focused in the wrong places."  
Heather went on, "he's put a great deal of his will into avoiding what he considers to be the faults of his parents... a great deal."

"I met his father once... I can't say that I blame him."

Heather shook her head, "You don't understand, Joyce. I suspect that you never could."

Joyce looked at her, confused, then a little hurt as Heather rose from her seat and went after Xander.

His knuckles were white as he clenched at the rail that went around the overlook that stood above the 'classroom' styled room below. Last night there had been an attractive woman of Asian origins there,  
dressed in leather or vinyl, satisfying the bizarre fantasies of some lawyer or another.

Today it looked like a class room, albeit a small one.

How does she DO that!? Xander's mind was screaming, his thoughts whirling as he saw himself on the couch, like his father, with a bottle of booze in his hands.

He wasn't going to end up like that. Not ever.

That wasn't what he was, God damn it!

No, it was just what he came from.

Xander closed his eyes, a look of revulsion on his face as he bent his head over.

It would always be what he came from.

"It won't work."

Xander started, spinning around, and saw Lady Heather standing in the doorway behind him, her expression concerned.

"It won't work, you know." She told him again.

"What won't work?"

"Fighting."

Xander shook his head, "What are you talking about?"

"There are times to fight, and times to relent." She told him. "You don't need to fight what your parents were."

She knew. Somehow, damn her, she knew. Every little detail of his life was open to her it seemed. Xander figured that he should be mad,  
should be furious with her for the ease of which she seemed to delve into his mind, his private places.

Yet, somehow, he couldn't care.

"I'll never become like they are." He told her then, "I'll never stop fighting."

"In this world," She said, coming closer until she was at his side and looking down on the room below, "There are times we have to fight... Things that are worth fighting, worth killing for. But this isn't one of them, Alexander."

His hands gripped the rail, twisted and clenching at the steel. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do." She said softly. "I do."

He didn't respond.

"What happens, Alexander, if you push to strongly against something that is weaker then you are? Something, or someone, who can't withstand the pressure."

That didn't take a genius to answer.

"It crumbles."

Heather nodded, "And if you aren't prepared for that?"

Xander snorted, "You fall on your face."

Heather just nodded again. "Precisely. Is your father stronger then you are? Can his example survive the full force of your will?"

Xander was silent, his head turning to look at her, perplexed.

"And if it can't, are you prepared for what will happen when it caves in under your constant pressure?" She asked softly.

Xander couldn't think of anything to say to that, couldn't think of anything but the image of himself falling right into the very thing he was pushing against.

"Some things, are best left alone." Heather told him then, "Waste no energy on them, because they are not worth your time. The more energy you pour into fighting them, the more you enforce their hold over you... and they eventually become a self fulfilling prophecy."

Xander was thunderstruck then, frozen in place.

"Besides," She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. "Don't you have better uses for your energies?"

"A strong young man like you should be able to think of something."

Chapter 34

Lady Heather was almost to the door when Xander's voice stopped her.

"Whatever you think you know, about me... about my family... You don't." He said coldly.

She paused, looking back, "Oh? Then enlighten me."

He didn't say anything, so she turned back and walked back to him,  
stopping just short of him. "I may have the details wrong, but I think I have the broad strokes correct. Tell me something, Alexander... Who are you?"

He shook his head, looking down at the staged classroom setting below. "I already answered that."

"Perhaps. Then, what are you?"

"I don't understand."

"What defines you, Alexander?" She asked him softly. "What is it about you that you hold as an example of you at your best?"

Xander paused, then shook his head. "I... I..."

"You don't know, do you?" She asked him, softly. Sadly.

He didn't respond.

"You define yourself by what you are not. Is this not true?" She asked, "You are not your father. You are not your mother. You are not a 'smart' man. You are not... you are not... but what ARE you?"

Xander shook his head, "I'm nothing special."

Behind him, Heather grimaced and lifted her hand as if to smack him across the back of the head. "Now you're beginning to annoy me."

Xander glanced over his shoulder, a wry grin on his lips, "Only now?  
I must be losing my touch."

She closed her eyes, lips twitching into a hint of a smile, then sobered and shook her head. "I can see that you are going to need a LOT of work."

"Like I haven't heard that one before."

"Are you a joker, then? A comedian?" Heather asked sharply. "Or is that another mask?"

Xander sighed, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" Heather sighed, shaking her head. "Let's talk about something else."

"That's fine with me," Xander replied.

She smiled, "Let's talk about sex."

Xander groaned, "Let's not."

She clucked ironically, "A teen boy who doesn't want to talk about sex... there IS something wrong with you."

He glared at her balefully, "I'm on to you, lady."

"Not yet you're not." She replied with a smirk. "But play your cards right..."

He rolled his eyes, "And I win fifty bucks from myself."

"Oh?"

"I figured you'd turn that into a come on." Xander replied, folding his hands over his chest. "I even got the general use of words right."

"Well, well, well," She smiled, again reevaluating the boy on the fly. She *was* enjoying this one immensely. "I'm impressed."

"I told you, I mastered the art of wisecrack-fu a long time ago," He told her, "With minors in flirting and verbal assault and battery.  
You're good, and you play on a dirtier field than I'm used to, but I learned to adapt to fight my betters a long time ago."

She pursed her lips, half amused, half annoyed by his statement.  
Even when he was basically issuing a challenge, he undercut himself with his words. Most likely that actually contributed to his survival in a very dangerous environment, she supposed. People would automatically underestimate someone who so obviously didn't believe in themselves, leading them to turning their backs on him.

A fatal mistake, if she was correct. Someone who turned their backs on this young man to attack one of his friends would most likely find their ends in the eyes of the boy they'd misjudged. The problem was that in his real life, that is to say the life he lived when he wasn't risking his very breath for his friends, what was a survival trait in one setting turned to an albatross hanging around his neck.

"What makes people your `Betters'?" She asked after a moment, taking steps away from the door toward him, cocking her head just slightly to one side.

Xander swallowed, not expecting the question.

"People I meet are... stronger, smarter... more powerful." He replied, "Better."

She switched her head over to the other side, causing her hair to cascade in the other direction, "And yet you fight them, as you say,  
and hold your own? I ask you again, what makes them `better'?"

He looked confused, shaking his head, "I don't know. They just are."

She reached out, laying a hand on his cheek, and sighed. "You are going to be one very challenging project, Alexander."

Xander shook his head, gently lifting her hand off his cheek. "Trust me, I'm not worth the time."

As he said that he pushed past her and walked out of the room,  
closing the door behind him.

"Someone, many someones most likely," Heather told Joyce, sighing,  
"have seriously damaged that young man."

Joyce nodded tiredly, "I'd guessed as much."

Heather shook her head, then smiled. "Give me a week."

Joyce chuckled, "Even you can't fix anyone's problems in a week,  
Heather."

Heather just smiled softly, "I don't need to fix his problems,  
Joyce. That's the beauty of this young man you brought me."

Joyce frowned, confused. "I... don't understand."

"I know, but that's fine." Heather replied, "One week, and I guarantee you that you'll be... shocked."

Joyce paused, staring at her old friend in confusion and not a little trepidation. "I'm not sure I like the way you say that..."

Heather's eyes twinkled with humor and a certain mischievousness that sent a shiver down Joyce Summers' spine and curled her stomach up in tight coils.

"Oh Joyce, you know you love it when I surprise you." Heather said,  
winking at her old friend.

"As I recall the last surprise involved you, me, and Hank in a rather public place doing things that could get us arrested." Joyce replied dryly, "I'd like to avoid arrest, if at all possible."

"Oh please," Heather waved her hand, "He is eighteen, right?"

"Heather!"

Lady Heather just smiled serenely.

"One week, Joyce."

"I can't leave my shop closed for a week," Joyce said sadly.

Heather shrugged, "Leave him here, then."

Joyce laughed, "Oh God, Heather, Xander would strangle me in my sleep!"

"Nonsense," Lady Heather replied, smiling, the looked thoughtful,  
"unless you asked him to of course."

"Heather!"

"You want me to WHAT!?"

"Now do try to calm down a little," Heather said from behind Joyce,  
smirking.

"Quiet!? Are you insane!? I'm not staying in this house alone!"

"You'd hardly be alone," Heather put in.

"Heather! Hush!" Joyce snapped, "You're not helping."

Heather just smiled and shrugged as she turned slightly away.

"Now, Xander," Joyce said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "It's not that bad, and you did agree to let Heather try to help you."

Xander glared openly at her, "That woman is a menace."

Joyce laughed, nodding, "I agree completely... But she's very good at what she does."

"Oh Joyce, you say the sweetest things."

"I said HUSH, Heather." Joyce sighed, slumping her head, "I thought you were supposed to be trying to help?"

"I'm trying to help him, I didn't say anything about helping you, my dear." Heather smiled.

Xander couldn't help it, he snickered at the look on Joyce's face and the groan she let out as she turned on her friend.

"Now I remember why I haven't called you in years."

"Ouch." Heather replied, still smiling, "Well, I suppose I shall simply have to come to Sunnydale for a visit. Do you think your daughters would object to our sharing a room?"

Joyce froze, almost as quickly as Xander did in fact, then the two of them simply shuddered. The image of Buffy running from the house,  
screaming in a hysteric panic, flashed through both their minds.  
Neither of them even wanted to *consider* what Dawn would think of the entire situation.

Heather, however, just continued to smile confidently at the two of them.

Joyce, by virtue of experience, was the first to thaw from her brain freeze.

"That is perhaps the most disturbing thing you have ever said to me," She told Lady Heather in a calm tone.

Heather just shrugged and smiled.

Joyce sighed, turning back to Xander, "Lady Heather can help you, if you let her."

"Am I really that badly screwed up?" Xander asked tiredly.

"Yes." The two women answered immediately.

"Oh come on!" He objected, just as they both burst into laughter.  
"That's not funny! It's not funny!"

"No," Heather said, "It's not."

"See?" Xander demanded, glaring at Joyce.

"So why do you make similar jokes about yourself all the time?"

Joyce just looked smug as Xander groaned.

"Fine. One week."

Chapter 35 


End file.
